Win a Date with Bellamy Blake
by BittyAB18
Summary: Clarke Griffin's best friend enters her in a contest to win a date with Bellamy Blake, famous actor/Hollywood heartthrob/bad boy. Except, Clarke already knows Bellamy, and she's not a fan of him or his movies. Because her life sucks, she wins, and now she's reintroduced to the guy she loved to hate in high school. Bellarke. Linctavia. Wells/OC. Rated M for adult content.
1. Chapter 1

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: I shouldn't be starting another story in the 100 fandom, but I fantasize about something like this happening all of the time, so whatever. This plot bunny won't go away until I get it going, so here it is. The character of Kate is my own creation, because I feel like there aren't enough female leads in this show, and I do want to keep some of the plot points inline with the show (i.e Bellamy's sister is Octavia and the Raven/Finn/Clarke debacle). Therefore, Clarke needs a best female friend, and her name will be Kate Webber. The actress I have in mind for her is Kelly Frye (and she played Plastique in the **_**Flash**_** on the CW).**

**In this story, I made it so that Bellamy was five years older than Octavia rather than the six or seven he is in the show. Clarke is the same age as him, and, therefore, five years older than Octavia. Bellamy, Clarke, and Octavia knew each other when they lived in Washington D.C. while they were growing up. They were not friendly.**

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><p>Clarke groaned as her best friend, Kate, drug her into the movie theatre. "I don't want to see this damn movie." It was hot outside today, despite it being mid-November, but it was Los Angeles, so that shit happened more often than not. She pulled her blonde curls up into a ponytail, sighing in relief as her neck immediately cooled. Kate rolled her eyes and arched one of her perfect red eyebrows.<p>

"I don't understand why you have such an aversion to _The Grounders_ series. I mean, Jesus, Clarke. You love sci-fi and violence and action. What's wrong with this series?" Clarke pursed her lips and shook her head. She wasn't going to get into this with Kate. There were some things that her friend didn't know her past, and she was going to keep it a secret for as long as possible.

"I think it's stupid. The whole premise is stupid."

"If the premise is so stupid, why is it a hit book series and movie series? Why is it making more money than _The Hunger Games_ and the like?" Kate sighed as the two of them stood in line to get their tickets.

"It's just…" Clarke groaned, because she had no excuses. She only had the truth, and she was keeping that to herself.

"I mean, look at him." Kate pointed to the movie poster in which the lead actor of the movie series, Bellamy Blake. Clarke's expression soured. Bellamy Blake. Fucking douche. "He's so fucking good looking."

"He's a douche." Clarke responded, frowning.

"Stop it. He's gorgeous. He's just an actor." Kate said with yet another eye roll. "C'mon. I love this series, and I _love_ Bellamy Blake."

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><p>Bellamy kicked the trashcan in the office of his agent, Marcus Kane. "You've got to be fucking kidding!" He yelled, turning to glare at the older man who was like a father to him. He was <em>livid<em>. He couldn't believe that Kane did this to him.

"Oh, stop freaking out, you big baby!" He turned and glared at the beautiful brunette lounging on the couch in Kane's office. He scoffed when his dark brown eyes met her hazel ones. She smirked at him-a smirk that was very much like his own, so much so, it was like looking in a mirror. It was expected, considering some of her genes were the same as his own.

"Fuck off, Octavia." He flipped his sister off, and she blew him a kiss.

"Now, Bellamy, you've got to look at the bigger picture here."

"What fucking bigger picture?" He turned his attention on Kane once again.

"_The Grounders_ has been a huge hit and a boost for your career, but there's only so much of a boost that you can get when you're a PR nightmare."

"Fuck you, Kane." Bellamy snapped, marching over to his agent's drink kart. He poured a couple of fingers worth of whiskey and swallowed the drink in one gulp. He winced slightly at the burn.

"Well, you are, Bellamy. You've gotten picked up for DUIs, disorderly conduct, and if it weren't for a little money being exchanged, you probably would've been picked up on assault charges, as well." Kane laid out Bellamy's faults in his typically cold, calculated way. Octavia snorted from where she was flipping through a magazine.

"Why are you here?" Bellamy snapped at her. "Don't you have a centerfold with _Playboy_ to prepare for?" The look he got from Octavia would've scared a weaker man, but he'd been on the receiving end of that look for most of his life, so it didn't exactly strike fear in him like it was intended. He rolled his eyes at her.

"You know I'm not _that_ kind of model, Bells." She tossed her magazine aside and stood up, glaring at him. He waved a hand at her. "It's a shoot for _Maxim_." She said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "And, it's tomorrow, brother dear."

"'Cause _Maxim_ is so much better, O." He blew out a breath. He had a huge issue with guys ogling his sister, and the altercation that led to the almost-assault charge was the result of some asshole saying shit about his sister.

"Whatever, I'm out. I've got a date." She pulled at her shirt, which wasn't much of a shirt. It was one of those cropped things that was barely more than a glorified bra. Her pulling on it did nothing more than show a little more cleavage than he liked. If she wasn't his sister, that kind of outfit, the cropped shirt and lowrise, skintight jeans, would be attractive to a guy like him. Hell, he'd dated plenty of models, actresses, and pop singers, because they dressed the way that O did. He didn't like it that his _sister_ was dressed in the same fashion.

"With who? What the fuck?" He narrowed his eyes at her, crossing his arms. She smirked at him, cocking her head to the side.

"Oh, no one in particular," she sighed, studying her nails. "Just...Lincoln Travers."

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, OCTAVIA!?" Bellamy bellowed, earning a sigh from Kane and an eye roll from Octavia.

"I like this. This is good." Kane said, ignoring Bellamy's freak out. He turned to Octavia, clapping his hands together. "Is this a one time thing or do you think that there might be a little more there?"

"Dude! This is not a good thing. It's a bad thing. He's a fucking _decade_ older than my baby sister!"

"I'm twenty-three years old, Bellamy. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I don't need my big brother saying who I can and cannot date!" Octavia snapped before turning her attention back onto Kane. "It's pretty serious, actually. We've been dating for the last six months, but no one's caught on yet. If there was one thing I-_we_-" She glanced at Bellamy before turning her focus back onto Kane. "-learned as kids, it was how to keep a secret."

Bellamy's face soured, because they'd kept a lot of secrets as kids, like what their mom did in her bedroom, the room right next to theirs, in order to make the ends meet after Bellamy's dad bailed on them. Hell, O had no idea who her father was because of their mother's profession. No one knew what their mom had done as a living. She died before either one of them had a career in Hollywood. Bellamy was twenty-three, and O had just turned eighteen. The second she graduated from high school, the two of them bought a plane ticket to LA and never looked back.

"Well, this is excellent. We can control this before it gets out. It will boost both of your careers." Kane said, pointing between the two of them. "It will squash any rumors of trouble on set between you and Travers," Kane said, looking pointedly at Bellamy, who snarled at him. Kane momentarily flinched before smiling sweetly at Octavia. "And, it will do well for getting you talked about. Perhaps we can get you to be the next _The Body_ for Victoria's Secret." Octavia chewed on her bottom lip.

"I don't think I want to use my relationship as a way to further my career, Kane." She ran a hand through her hair. "Lincoln and I-there's something here, and I don't want it to be something sullied by the vultures in the media."

Bellamy took a step towards his sister, but paused, because he still didn't _like_ that Octavia was dating Travers. He and Lincoln did have _trouble_ on set during the filming of _The Grounders_ movies, except trouble was an understatement. It was a testament to how good of an actor he was (and, yeah, he could admit that Lincoln was pretty good himself, as well) that he was able to turn it off the second the camera went on. His character, Gage Fuller, and Lincoln's character, Ijan, went from enemies to best friends over the course of the series. Now, Gage and Ijan were in almost every scene, and there was even fanfiction being written about a Gage and Ijan romance. That shit was too weird in his opinion. He was quite happy with Gage's on-screen love affair with Crystal, the beautiful temptress from a rival tribe. He was never going to pretend to be in love with Lincoln's character, and if the producers, directors, and studio heads ever asked for that in the final movie that they were planning on filming in a few months, then they'd be shit out of luck for their star.

Octavia looked hopeful, but the second he stopped himself from getting any closer to her, her body and face physically hardened, and her _I-don't-feel-a-thing_ mask slipped into place. He could read his baby sister like a book, and he knew that she was feeling a whole shit-storm of things right now, but she wasn't showing it. It made her a damned good model, and if she decided to ever take up Kane's offer, a good actress, too. He swallowed, marching over to pour himself a drink.

"Can I think about it?" She asked Kane, and her voice was quiet and tight. Bellamy winced, chugging his drink before pouring another.

"Right, yeah, just...make sure that you two keep this under wraps, or else we might not be able to spin it in our favor."

"What do you mean by that?" Octavia asked him, arms crossed.

"The ink's not quite dry on his divorce from Lexa Jamison, Octavia. The three of us-and Lincoln, and probably his team, too-know that you two were only together for the last six months, but the press will have a field day with the possibility that you and Lincoln being the reason for why he and Lexa split nine months ago."

"She was, though, right, O?" Bellamy said, his voice void of emotion. He knocked back his third drink before studying his sister.

"Yes, but _no_." She told him, twisting her fingers. "He and I have been getting closer-we go to all of the same parties, and I see him on set all the time when I come visit you, Bells. I dunno, we started talking, then texting, and then...he told me he had feelings for me. He said he was going to leave Lexa for me. I...I didn't think he was serious, and when he did, I just…" She ran a hand through her hair.

"You freaked. That's why it took you guys another few months before you hooked up." She nodded her head. He blew out a breath. She was his fucking baby sister. In the five years they've been in this business, he's made three movies with this asshole, who was flirting with his sister the entire time.

_The Grounders_ was his first film, and it skyrocketed his career to the big leagues. The following year, he had lead roles in a few other teen, cult-favorite movies, and then the filming of the second _Grounders_ film came the year after that, along with three other films. The production had just ended on the third _Grounders_ film, which was based on the third book in the series. They'd divided the book up into two movies, so now the filming for the final movie in the franchise was to start in a few months. Bellamy planned on taking a break before he did anything else, but Kane was already talking to him about some gladiator movie that would start pre-production within a month of filming ending for the final _Grounders_ film. He was considering taking it, because it would be another big draw at the box office, especially in the female demographics, because he'd spend much of the movie half-naked, sweaty, and bloodied. Women seemed to love him in roles like that. It got him laid quite frequently, so he wasn't going to complain.

"Okay, so we need to control this before it gets out. Talk to Lincoln. Let him know that this stuff doesn't stay secret for long, and the fact that you guys made it six months without anyone getting a whiff that something was going on between the two of you is a fucking miracle." Kane let out a breath. "I'm just worried about you, Octavia. I want to protect you and your career." She nodded her head.

"I'll talk to him." She acquiesced before looking to Bellamy. He sighed, squeezing his hands into fists a few times before he could speak.

"I don't fucking like it, but I won't pound his face in the next time I see him. That's all I can promise you, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded her head before turning toward the door. "Bye, Bells. Bye, Kane." The two men watched her go before they squared off once again.

"Now, tell me how the fuck you're going to get me out of this bullshit that you got me into." Bellamy snapped, glaring at his soon-to-be _ex_-agent.

"Oh, c'mon, Bellamy! This will do fabulous for your career, if you can keep it in your pants for one-night-a week or two tops."

"What the hell do you mean a week or two tops? You said _one date_ not a fucking week!"

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><p>Clarke sighed loudly as she and Kate sat down in two of the center row seats. She dug her hand into her bucket of popcorn, shoving a handful into her mouth. "Would you stop sighing like that? It's just a fucking movie. Don't ruin it for me!"<p>

"Why didn't you drag someone else with you-someone who actually likes this series and Bellamy Blake?" She said around her mouthful of popcorn. She smiled gleefully at the grimace on Kate's face.

"Because I wanted my best friend to go with me!" Kate sucked on the straw in her soda. "If I took anyone else, they'd talk through the movie and ruin it. And, if I took Wells, he'd complain the whole time and say that he deserves a blow job for being such a great boyfriend."

"Gross. Don't want to hear it. Don't need to know what you and Wells do." Clarke shook her head, visibly shivering in disgust. Wells was her best friend from high school, and the two of them had gone to Stanford together, and they both stayed there for their post-college studies-Clarke for medicine and Wells for law. It wasn't until they both moved to L.A. two years ago, after they finished their degrees, did they meet Kate. Clarke met Kate and introduced her to Wells. Kate and Wells had hit it off, and they'd been together for the last year and a half. Clarke had been fearful that she'd feel like a third wheel around them whenever the three of them got together after Kate and Wells had started dating, but that had never been the case. She gained a best friend and never lost her first one. She actually admired Kate and Wells, and she hoped to one day have a relationship like theirs. For a little while, she thought she did have that, but it turned out that she was wrong. Clarke swallowed the knot that formed in her throat, washing it away with a sip of her soda.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot." Kate rolled her eyes. She squealed when the room darkened and the previews began playing on the screen. Just before the movie was set to begin, one final advertisement flashed on the screen.

"_Do you _love_ Bellamy Blake?_" A beautiful woman was featured, a flirty smile on her lips. "_I know _I _do. If you love Bellamy Blake as much as I do, then enter our _Win a Date with Bellamy Blake_ competition. One lucky lady will win a romantic date for one evening with Hollywood's number one heartthrob, Bellamy Blake! Go to w-w-w-dot-win-a-date-with-bellamy-blake-dot-com to enter. There are a few restrictions, though. Bellamy is only a fan of the ladies, so you must be female to enter. Sorry, fellas! Also, Bellamy's a big boy, so only ladies who are over the age of twenty-one can enter, as well. Good luck, everyone!_"

Clarke couldn't contain the laugh that erupted from her as she listened to all of the insane women in the audience start squealing like small children in a toy store at the advertisement. God, his agent and publicist must be desperate to get him good press, because his bad boy image might finally be taking him down. She rolled her eyes at how everyone was carrying on around her. "Can you believe this?" She turned to Kate, but groaned when she realized that her friend was equally as excited as the rest of them, but the redhead was at least keeping her squeals internal. Kate was wide-eyed, grinning, and frozen in the seat beside her. "You're as bad as they are." The movie's beginning music started booming through the theatre as the credits began. She sighed, leaning back into the seat, shoving more popcorn into her mouth. This was going to be a long two hours.

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><p>"Clarke, please!?" After the movie, Clarke and Kate had returned to Clarke's apartment.<p>

"No!" Clarke shouted back at her friend as she poured some white wine into two goblets.

"Oh, c'mon, Clarke! PLEASE?!" Clarke gulped down the wine in her glass so quickly, she coughed on a bubble of air that she swallowed, as well. She immediately began filling her second glass.

"What are we begging Clarke to do?" Wells' voice flooded through the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. She walked around the glass and foliage divider in her apartment with her full glass of wine and looked pleadingly at Wells.

"Please, tell your girlfriend it is okay with you for her to enter to win a date with Bellamy Blake rather than forcing it on me?!"

"What?" Wells asked, an eyebrow raised. He limped toward the Clarke, smiling brightly when Kate came around the divider, as well.

"Since I'm committed to you, love, I was trying to convince Clarke to enter the contest to win a date with Bellamy Blake." Kate explained as she pressed a kiss to her boyfriend's lips.

"Why would Clarke enter a contest to go on a date with Bellamy Blake? She hated him when she was in high school with him." Clarke groaned, because Kate twisted around to stare at her, a huge gasp erupting from the redhead.

"YOU WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL WITH BELLAMY BLAKE!?" Kate yelled, pushing away from Wells to storm over to Clarke.

"Thanks, Wells, so much for that."

"I didn't realize that you kept it a secret from her. I always thought she knew why you hated him so much."

"Oh, my fucking God, Clarke!" Clarke groaned, taking a couple of big gulps of her wine before shrugging her shoulders at her friend.

"Kate, why are you freaking out? So, I went to high school with him? It's not that big of a deal. He was an asshole. He was a bit of a bully. All he did was call me Princess and talked about how I was always on my high horse and looked down at the masses and the like. He was the king of the school, though, because he was the quarterback on the football team and all around popular guy, because he was the bad boy that everyone wanted to be or date. Except me, because he was obnoxious."

"How could neither of you tell me?" Kate looked between Clarke and Wells. "Seriously?"

"Well, Clarke and I were best friends through our parents, but we didn't go to the same schools, so I never met him, but all I heard was how much of a douchebag he was for the entirety of our school experience. I dunno why Clarke didn't tell you that she knew him."

"Because there wasn't anything to tell! He's a jerk! That's all. No biggie." Clarke sighed, taking a sip of her wine.

"That's it! I'm entering you in this contest!"

"What?! No, why!?"

"Because _you_ are going to win a date with Bellamy Blake and rub it all in his face about how you're a hotshot living in L.A., and he's gonna regret never trying to hookup with you in high school." Clarke blushed, because he did kiss her one time at a party during high school, but then was a total asshole to her afterwards. "Why are you blushing? Did you hook up with him?"

"He kissed me. Once. Junior year of high school. There was a big party, and I went, because a girl that I was friendly with drug me there. He was drunk, and I was hiding on the enclosed porch at the house, because everyone else was in the backyard or in the different rooms of the house, and he came in, kissed me, and then said he was dared to do it. He's a douchebag before that, and then he was a douchebag afterwards. And, he's a douchebag now." She finished off her glass of wine. "Who wants to order pizza? I don't feel like going out."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Clarke's apartment was inspired by a studio loft apartment that can be found by searching: Home Adore 002 Studio Loft. It's like the first loft apartment pic that comes up, with the giant painting of a face over the bed and a big foliageglass divider in the center of the apartment, cutting off the dining area from the bedroom area.**


	2. Chapter 2

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: In order to put in email addresses and the like, I spelled out the symbols like the at-symbol or dot rather than the period symbol. Like I did with the previous chapter. Also, to see what Bellamy's house looks like, google/bing the following: 1430 Sunset Plaza Drive, Los Angeles, California. The first website that comes up is The Agency, a realtor site, and it is that gorgeous glass and wood house on the Sunset Strip. It's stunning, and I want to live there...just saying. **

**There is no Clarke POV in this chapter, just Kate's, Bellamy's, and Octavia's. Those four are my main characters, and I will be switching between their POVs. The majority of the time will be from Clarke and Bellamy's POV.** **I will try my best to make it clear who's POV that you'll be in during each part. If you ever get confused, do not hesitate to ask me. **

**Also, I hate to be one of those writers who beg for reviews, but please let me know what you think! I get so many follows and favorites, and that's so humbling, but I would love to hear what you like, what you don't like, and what you hope to see! So, please, let me know in the reviews! ENjoy this chapter!**

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><p>Kate Webber sat in front of the computer in her one-bedroom apartment in Downtown L.A. She could hear Wells in the bathroom, getting ready for the night. She had lied when she told him and Clarke that she <em>wouldn't<em> enter Clarke in the contest to win a date with Bellamy Blake, but now that she knew that Clarke had a history with him? She chewed on her thumb nail as she stared at the webpage in front of her. There was big image of Bellamy standing in the background of the webpage in a pair of dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and black army boots on his feet, a smirk on his lips. His dark hair was as unkempt as ever. It was one of his modeling images-likely one that he sent out when he was first getting booked for jobs, because he looked to be a few years younger than his nearly twenty-eight years of age at the present.

She heard the shower turn on, and she figured that now as the time. Should she betray her best friend and her boyfriend by entering Clarke in the contest, or should she just let it go and let some other sap win? She tapped her index finger on the flat space beside the big scroll pad of her laptop, hearing the click, click, click of her nail against the plastic. "Fuck it," she whispered, using her the tip of her finger to move the cursor to the enter button. "Clarke will thank me for this later."

Kate hit the enter button, and the page opened to a bunch of blank boxes next to a series of questions, and then a bunch of circle options in the form of what appeared to be some kind of Likert scale. She moved the cursor to the blank box beside the first question, and she began filling in the questionnaire.

_Your full name._ Clarke Elizabeth Griffin. _Date of birth_. February 4, 1987. _Phone number_. She paused before entering Clarke's phone number. _Email address_. clarkegriffin87-at-gmail-dot-com. _Address_. She entered Clarke's apartment address. _Best way to contact you in the event that you win_. Clarke didn't check her email all that often, so Kate directed them to call Clarke's phone. _Are you employed?_ Yes. Clarke was employed. _Are you college educated?_ Yes. Clarke had gone to medical school, so she was definitely educated. _Do you live independently or with roommates? Or, do you live at home with your parents? _Clarke lived alone. _Are you in a relationship?_ No, Clarke was single. Kate sighed, answering all of the questions on the questionnaire before moving on to the Likert scale questions. _On a scale of one to five, please rate the importance to you, with one being not at all, two being not that much/a little, three being neutral, four being somewhat, and five being a lot. _"What the hell is all of this for?"

Kate shook her head and looked to the first question. _Bellamy Blake is your favorite actor_. She laughed as she marked a five, because it was likely that they'd rule out everyone who picked lower than that on that question. _How much do you enjoy dancing, going to parties or nightclubs, and being around alcohol?_ Kate generally had to drag Clarke out to a bar or a nightclub to get their drink and dance on, but once there, she usually had a good time. She hesitated over the four, but figured that all fives would wind up getting Clarke more likely to be picked than any other answers. Kate quickly selected five for everything and then moved to the final empty box. _Tell us a little bit about you_. She hesitated for just a moment before she began to type.

"I graduated from high school with Bellamy Blake." She decided to leave it at just that. The final thing she had to do was submit a picture. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled through Clarke's instagram pictures before settling on a picture of her in a yellow blouse, jean shorts, gladiator sandals, and a pair of sunglasses perched on her head; her blonde hair was like a curtain, hanging in loose curls over one shoulder, and she had a huge smile on her face as she leaned back against the pier in Santa Monica. She sent the picture to herself in an email, which she saved onto her hard drive, which she attached to the website. Before she could regret her decision, she hit the submit button, reading that the winner would be announced in one week's time on the website, and the winner would be notified according to their requested mode of contact in the questionnaire. Moments after she exited the site, the door to the bathroom, and Wells came out with just a towel wrapped around his waist. She grinned at his nude chest, with nothing more than a slight smattering of chest hair there.

Despite the car accident that left him with a slight limp, Wells was in great shape. She bit her lip as she studied the way that a few errant water drops dripped down his chocolate skin towards the light blue towel on his hips. "Damn, baby." She cooed, setting her laptop down on the coffee table in front of her. She stood up and made her way over to him, kissing him as her fingers stroked down his chest. "I love your body." She breathed against his lips. She felt him grin as he pressed his lips to hers. "I think we need to get rid of this. Whoops." She pulled back, watching as the towel fell to his feet. "That's better, don't you think?"

"Definitely," Wells laughed, pulling her into his arms. His hands found her shirt, lifting it up and over her head. "It'll be even better when you're naked, too."

* * *

><p>"We'll control this." Kane said as Bellamy glared at him from where they were seated in Bellamy's living room in the five-bedroom house on the Sunset Strip. He shook his head, staring out the large glass windows at his stunning view of the city.<p>

"How the hell do you control it? I've already gotten over two hundred _thousand_ women entering the goddamn contest. This is insane. And fucking creepy. I still don't understand why this is happening at all? Bad press is still good press, Kane. You said that yourself."

"Yes, but if the bigwigs at _Lions Gate_ hear any more bad shit about you and the impact that could have on the success of the final _Grounders_ film, they might cut you from the film."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bellamy squeezed his hands into fists.

"Since the movies have deviated enough from the book series, the execs have proposed two screenplays, one that still aligns with the core plot of the final book, and the other with a surprise twist in the first twenty minutes of the final movie."

"Which is?"

"The death of Gage." Kane sighed, sitting down in one of Bellamy's chairs, a resigned look on his face. "They're pushing for _that_ to be the movie that is made, not the one that follows the book more closely, in which Gage officially gets the girl, stops the grounders from destroying the city he built up, and all that shit."

"Well, fuck, Bells." Octavia came into the living room with a glass of water in her hand. She was dressed in a white bikini, with a black holey sarong tied around her waist. It did nothing to cover the skin she had exposed, but he'd rather she dress like that when she was at his house than her apartment in Malibu that had a shared pool with the rest of the complex or _anywhere else_.

Bellamy stood up and walked over to the punching bag that he had hanging in the corner of the living room. He punched it hard, watching as it swung back and forth. "How the hell does this fucking date thing help me?"

"Well, the idea behind this is that you go on a date with a lucky fan-make her dream come true. Make her happy and tell all of her friends how _respectful_ and _kind_ you are. Hopefully, I can convince you to do a little flirting via Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Vine, and all the other stupid social media sites you do. Follow her, favorite her shit a few times. You get the deal. It's a few weeks of that crap after the date of a lifetime. It gives you good press. Keep away from getting drunk and beating the shit out of people for awhile. Get the right movie made."

"Fine." Bellamy punched the punching bag once more before he turned to face Kane and Octavia. His sister was seated on the couch, looking concerned as she gripped her glass in her hands. Kane was still sitting in the same chair as before, his back rigid and his hands interlaced as he studied Bellamy back.

"Also, I have an issue with you." The older man looked over at Octavia. Her head snapped up, and she looked at him.

"What kind of issue?"

"Apparently, you and Lincoln weren't as secretive as you thought, because someone snapped a few pictures of you two making out in the parking garage of your apartment. They're trying to shop the photos around, but I was able to buy them up." Bellamy punched the bag again, making his sister jump.

"It must have been when I was saying goodbye to him…" She whispered.

"I called Lincoln's representation, and we both agreed that we need to control this in our favor. So, we're going to bury your coming out as a couple under your brother's contest date."

"How?" Both of the Blake siblings said it at the same time, making them smirk at each other.

"So, the deal is that you two will go out on your first official date in the public eye the same night as Bellamy's date with the fan. Most of the world will be focused on the contest date, and you and Lincoln will be less newsworthy. If people start to see you two out and about from now on, hopefully we can keep the length of your romance a secret, and people won't wonder if you two were the cause of Lincoln's failed marriage."

Octavia let out a breath before she sipped her water. "Okay."

"I'm still waiting to hear how we're going to control the contest."

"Well, we've already been able to narrow it down a lot. We sorted the women who entered to the age group of twenty-one to thirty." Kane said, grabbing his tablet. After a few moments of tapping at the screen, he pulled up a list of names. "That narrowed us from the two hundred thousand down to about one hundred thousand. You had a lot of women in the forty to fifty-five age bracket," Kane said with a smile.

"Yeah, the cougars love me." Bellamy rolled his eyes and walked over to look at the list of names over Kane's shoulder. "That still a lot of names to go through."

"Yes, so then we narrowed the search area to California, which knocked us down to ten thousand."

"Still too many."

"Then, to the Los Angeles area, which brought us to about two thousand."

"Again, too many, but better. Much better."

"We then narrowed it to everyone who gave a five rating on the scale questions-the ones about your movies, your philanthropic involvement, et cetera. That narrowed it to a thousand."

"Still too many."

"Okay, so now it is up to you. How much do you want to narrow it now. We could set preferences to girls with a certain hair color, body build, zip code, area code, narrow the age gap more."

"Um, narrow the age gap to twenty-five to twenty-eight." Octavia said, eyes narrowed. Bellamy cocked an eyebrow at her. "And employed. With a college education. Who lives alone or with roommates, not her parents. Who isn't an actress or singer."

"Well, that certainly narrowed it down. We have a hundred and fifty women now." Kane said with a smile.

"Why?" Bellamy asked her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Bellamy, you need a girl who is at least somewhat put together, not someone who's looking for a meal ticket in the form of trying to sleep with you and get knocked up for her chance at fame or a shit ton of money. The education part is because your smart, really fucking smart. You could have been a lawyer or a doctor or an engineer or President if that is what you wanted to do. Plus, you love history, so you need someone you can have a conversation with. Since you need to play the respectful gentleman card, and not the overgrown frat boy, you need someone who is at a more equal level to you. Plus, I know you. You don't like to date older. You like to date younger. Therefore, you need a single, unattached woman who is college educated, employed, lives independently from Mommy and Daddy, and who is about twenty-five to twenty-eight years old with a job."

"Fine. One hundred and fifty women?" He turned to Kane.

"Let me do that." Octavia said, holding her hand out for the tablet.

"What? Why?"

"Because you won't look at their responses to things, Bells. You'll look at their faces and their bodies, and you'll wind up with a miserable night. I'll pick you out a girl that you'll at least have an okay time with that won't make you want to puke when you look at her. Don't worry. I will narrow it down to about twenty women, and you'll pick a name out of a box, and that will be the contest winner." He studied his sister for a moment before nodding his head. O sometimes had a good head on her shoulders-she advised him to take audition for _The Grounders_ originally, and she definitely helped him out with a lot of the other roles he's taken on throughout his career. Her advice had landed him as one of Hollywood's favorite action and blockbuster stars, so he would take her cue on this stupid date contests, as well.

Kane handed Octavia the tablet, and she stood, making her way out of the house. Both men watched her go. "This better work, Kane, or you're fired." Bellamy warned, earning a scoff, because they both knew that he wouldn't fire Kane. Marcus Kane was like his father-so much more than his agent.

* * *

><p>Octavia dropped onto one of the lounge chairs by Bellamy's pool. She set the water glass down on the ground beside the chair and began scrolling through the names and pictures of the women who fit the criteria that Kane had entered in. She skimmed over names and faces, and there were a few people on the list that she recognized as the daughters of some important people that she had run across in the last five years in the business. Usually, they were trying to make names for themselves in fashion or modeling, and they were the type of girls that Bellamy bedded once and then never spoke to them again. He couldn't do that, because the women would likely make a stink, and he'd get more bad press. No, he needed a woman that he'd want to sleep with, but would still have an enjoyable time with without sleeping with them.<p>

After cutting out the twenty or so women that she recognized, she decided to look at the answers that the women gave, especially their final open-ended space to talk about who they are as people. She cut out the ones that responded with nothing more than "oh, my God! I love you so much, Bellamy! I'm your biggest fan. Please pick me!" She smiled when she saw that that brought down the tally to seventy-five women. Some of the women talked about what they liked to do, other women talked about their passions in life. So far, she had found about ten women who didn't seem that bad-that Bellamy wouldn't want to stab himself in the eye with a fork should he go on the date with them.

Octavia came across the profile for a Clarke Elizabeth Griffin. She was pretty-blonde, green eyes, curvy, but still slender. She was definitely the girl next door type-not as leggy or stick thin as most of the girls in the narrowed down list. "Clarke Griffin." Octavia said the name aloud, because it was familiar to her, but she couldn't put her finger on how she knew the name. Clarke was a month younger than her brother, turning twenty-eight on February fourth, whereas Bellamy turned twenty-eight on January ninth. She lived alone, in her own apartment. She was employed. She had gone to medical school. She was smart, beautiful, hardworking, and independent. She was exactly the type of girl that Bellamy should date-hell, she was the type of girl who Bellamy should _marry_, but that was never going to happen.

She was just about to add Clarke to the group of girls' names that were to be put in the box for Bellamy to pick from when she saw what Clarke's about her box said. She had gone to high school with Bellamy. It was then that Octavia recognized why the name Clarke Griffin was so familiar. She was in the same grade as Bellamy-she had graduated the same year as him. She was valedictorian. She had been super smart and a loner at school. Bellamy had always called her Princess, because her dad was an electrical engineer and her mom was a doctor, and both of her parents were friends with Congressman Jaha. It was because of Octavia and Bellamy's smarts and athletic ability that they were able to get scholarships into the fancy school that the likes of which people like Clarke Griffin attended. No, Clarke was the perfect girl with a perfect life, and Bellamy hated her. He called her Princess, because he knew she hated it. Why the hell would Clarke enter this contest? From what Octavia could remember, she had hated Bellamy as much as he had hated her. It didn't make sense. Something about this entry was strange to Octavia, but intriguing. She wondered what Bellamy would say or do if he wound up selecting Clarke from box. Would he even remember her?

Octavia was still confused about Clarke's entry. Why would she enter? She hated Bellamy, right? She distinctly remembers Clarke calling her brother an asshole on the day of their graduation when he went completely nude under his gown and how he tore it off the second he accepted his diploma and moved his tassel to indicate that he'd graduated. He balled up the gown and tossed it in Clarke's face and took off streaking down the center aisle. It was after he'd dressed once more in the clothes that he had stored in the trunk of their mom's car that Clarke came storming up to him, her face bright red, her blonde curls tumbling down her back, the blue gown open to reveal a white sleeveless dress with small light pink and blue flowers on it, screaming about how much of an asshole that he was for ruining her perfect day. Octavia had watched the whole exchange, barely thirteen years old, with her mom hiding the flask she was sipping from behind her program as she stared off into space. She remembered thinking that Clarke looked so pretty in her dress with her matching white flats, even with the fury written all over her face. She had shoved Bellamy's gown into his chest, and all he had done was smirk at her and toss her a wink before storming off. Octavia expected Clarke to get flustered by her brother's smirk, to wander after him like most girls did, but instead she shot him a disgusted look over her shoulder, shook her head, rolled her shoulders, and then let a happy mask slip over her face as she walked over to who Octavia assumed were her parents, Congressman Jaha, and the congressman's son. She hugged each person, posed for pictures, all the while not letting it known that she was angry, but Octavia could see it swirling beneath the surface in the same way she's seen it swirling beneath her brother for as long as she could remember.

Octavia snapped out of the memory, staring at the pretty picture that Clarke had submitted with her entry. Perhaps Clarke intended to get back at her brother in some way. She couldn't let that happen. She almost deleted Clarke's entry, but something prompted her to search for anything she could get on Clarke Griffin. She started by looking for her via Facebook. After making a quick status update on her page for her fans, saying she was just lounging by the pool at her brother's house, enjoying the warm November sun, Octavia began searching for every name combination of Clarke Elizabeth Griffin she could find, and she finally found Clarke's page (Clarke E. Griffin). From the limited amount of her page that she allowed to be shared with the public, it was clear that Clarke was a good person. She was involved in various animal rights charities, she was an avid vegan, she volunteered at animal shelters, and she also taught art classes to kids in homeless and women's shelters, as well as in the children's wards of hospitals. The idea that Clarke entered to get back at her brother didn't seem to fit.

Octavia then jumped to Twitter and Instagram, trying her hardest to find anything about Clarke that would make sense about her entry. She couldn't find anything. All she found on Instagram was pictures of animals at the shelters she volunteered for that needed homes, pictures of her vegan meals that were apparently to die for, pictures of her with the children that she taught classes to at the hospitals and homeless shelters, and an assortment of pictures of her with her friends. Her tweets included inspirational quotes, song lyrics, and retweets of various things she was passionate about. Clarke was just nice. Almost too nice.

It was then that Octavia got a plan in mind. Clarke was exactly the type of girl that Bellamy needed in his life. It was her hope that Clarke would rub off on him, making him nicer, softer. Her brother was talented-so smart and wonderful. He raised her in a way that their mom never did, and neither one of them had ever been around their dads. In many ways, Bellamy was not only her brother, but her mother and father, as well. She loved her brother, and she was afraid that if he kept spiraling on the path that he was on-the drinking, the bad attitude, the fighting-he'd lose everything he'd worked so hard to get. His identity was that of an actor and as her brother. Perhaps Clarke would be good for him. Octavia wasn't naive to think that a single date would solve anything. No, she knew that it would take more than that, and she would have to play an active role in making sure that Clarke was involved in her brother's life for more than one night. She would figure out how to do that, but first she had to get them set up for one night.

She reached for her cell phone from the ground where she had left it before she had gone inside to get a glass of water and got distracted by the possibility that Bellamy's character would be killed off early on in a movie and her relationship with Lincoln being outed in a negative fashion. She composed a text to Kate.

_Today 1:42 PM_

_Don't tell Bellamy. I've found the perfect girl to fix his image. Need your help to make it more than one night. Only one name is going into the box: Clarke Griffin._

It took all of thirty-two seconds before Kane responded to Octavia: _Done._


	3. Chapter 3

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: To the guest reviewer who asked if a squeal counts: yes. Yes, it does.**

**Question, does anyone know what Eliza's tattoo is of on her right wrist? I looks like a fish, and considering she said she wanted to study marine biology before she became an actress, that would make sense, but I wasn't sure if anyone knew what it was. I know Eliza has a quote on her foot, but I'm changing what the quote says for the sake of this story.**

**Also, in the event that anyone is confused. Clarke/Bellamy are currently 27, because it is Thanksgiving 2014. This story will transition to 2015, though, and they will be turning 28. **

* * *

><p>Clarke climbed out of her bed on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. She still had a few last minute things to get from the store and farmer's market before the holiday, which she was hosting at her apartment this year. Her apartment was the largest, a large open plan room with stairs that led to the loft. Traditionally, the loft would have likely been made into the bedroom space, but she had converted that area of the apartment to her studio. She smoothed the sheets back into place on her bed and slowly mader way to the kitchen, where she got herself a glass of orange juice. She drank down the juice before making her way to the bathroom to get herself ready for the day.<p>

After her shower, she dressed in her painting clothes, which was essentially a ratty t-shirt over a pair of shorts, and she made her way up the stairs to the loft. She grabbed a fresh canvas and put it in place of the easel. Then, she grabbed the paint and brushes and got to work. She generally had two styles. She liked to paint landscapes. She loved the rich blending of greens and browns to make a forest, the mixture of blues, purples, pinks, whites, and black to paint evening sky, the dark vastness of the ocean, and so on. There was something relaxing about painting landscapes.

In the more recent years, however, Clarke had painted more abstract works. Things that made no sense to most people. Pieces that made no sense to _her_. Today she was driven to paint a tree. She painted the dark brown of the bark, the various shades of green for the leaves. But, her vision burned. Before she knew what she was doing, she was slashing at the canvas with angry blood red swipes of paint. In the end, it looked as if the tree was bleeding, and the whole image of the painting was dark and conflicted. She was angry-so angry-and this painting seemed to scream it. She let out a breath, stepping back from the painting, contemplating it. For some, they might believe that her little meltdown had ruined the beginnings of a stunning work of art, but to her, this was art. This is what she needed to say. The red revealed something to her. She gathered up her paints and supplies, cleaning up after herself, leaving the canvas on the easel to dry.

She headed back downstairs, hungry, and a glance at the clock on her oven indicated that she had been painting for almost three hours. Kate would be coming over in about a half an hour, and the two of them were going to go shopping for clothes, supplies for the coming holiday, and generally hang out. She could probably convince Kate to stop for lunch first before they go shopping. Instead of getting something to eat, she went back into the bathroom to wipe away any remaining paint on her body. She then began to dress into a pair of jean shorts, a t-shirt, and slid several braided bracelets onto her right wrist. A glance in the mirror showed her that she didn't need much more than a little undereye concealer, mascara, and a tinted lip balm. After a few minutes of applying the minimal makeup, she then pulled on a pair of ankle socks and a pair of Keds sneakers.

"Knock, knock!" Clarke had just finished getting ready when the door to her apartment opened, revealing her best friend.

"Hey," she called out to Kate, walking toward the front door, smiling. The smile slipped from her face when she saw Kate's expression. "What's up?"

"Before we go, we need to check something, okay?" Clarke nodded her head.

"How long will it take? I'm starving, and I was hoping to get something to eat before we go shopping okay?" Clarke said as she started shoving her wallet, phone, and a few other items into a small purse.

"Yeah, okay." Kate said, grabbing Clarke's laptop. She loaded the computer, and Clarke glanced at her confused by her strange behavior. She walked over to the kitchen, grabbing an apple to put a little something on her stomach. She heard her phone buzzing in the purse that she left on her bed. She rushed over to grab it, accepting the call from a number she didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Um, Clarke?!" Kate called out to her, but she held up her hand and focused on the call and the man speaking to her.

"Yes, hello, is this Clarke Griffin?"

"Clarke, wait, um," Kate was next to her, holding the laptop in her hands.

"Yes, this is Clarke Griffin." She shot Kate a look, shushing her with just that look.

"Ms. Griffin, my name is Marcus Kane, and I am the agent for Bellamy Blake." The color drained from Clarke's face, and she turned to look at Kate. Her friend looked guilty as she turned the laptop around to show her the webpage displayed. It read: _Congratulations, Clarke Griffin! Winner of our 'Win a Date with Bellamy Blake!' Competition!_ Beneath the announcement was a video, the red arrow in the center of the video box blocking out part of Bellamy Blake's crossed arms, with a black box in front of him, and his smirking face staring at her in an almost taunting fashion. Clarke glared at Kate as Marcus Kane began speaking to her again. "We just wanted to congratulate you on the winning of the _Win a Date with Bellamy Blake!_ competition."

"Listen, I-"

"Now, I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Ms. Griffin, and I'm sure that you're excited, as well, so I was hoping that we could schedule a meeting for later this afternoon. We can answer any questions that you might have, then, as well as work out the details of the date." Kane rattled off an address. "How does one this afternoon work for you?"

Clarke continued to glare at Kate, who had shut the laptop and was biting her bottom lip, twisting her fingers. She figured that during the meeting, she could shut this down. Let them pick a runner up. "Fine. I will see you at one this afternoon. I'm out and about with someone else this afternoon, so do you mind if I bring someone with me to the meeting?"

"Oh, um, sure, Ms. Griffin, I think that that could be arranged."

"Excellent. I look forward to our meeting, Mr. Kane." Clarke ended the call with Bellamy's agent and took a deep breath.

"Clarke, I'm so sorry. I didn't think you'd actually win. I just...I don't know what I was thinking. Please don't hate me." Clarke closed her eyes, taking yet another deep breath, before she opened her mouth to respond to her friend.

"I don't hate you. I'm pissed, but I don't hate you. You owe me _huge_. You're getting me the fuck out of this."

* * *

><p>Bellamy was late to the meeting, and he kept getting frantic texts from Octavia and Kane about his lateness. He had to meet the winner of the competition. Clarke...when he first read the name off for the video on the website, he thought it was a dude's name, but his sister and Kane assured him that it was a girl. He was trying to figure out why the name Clarke was familiar to him, but he had no idea, so he wrote it off. He so didn't want to go to this damn meeting, but he had to, so he was dragging his feet about getting there. It was only fifteen minutes, but it was enough rebellion that he felt pretty proud of himself. He sighed when his phone went off, and he saw that it was Octavia calling.<p>

"Chill, I'm getting off the elevator now. Be there in a minute." He hung up the phone, and within five seconds, the door to the office at the other end of the hallway flew open, and Octavia was standing there twisting her fingers. She shut the door behind her, holding her hands up when he finally reached her. "What's up? Don't I have to meet this chick and get the details worked out for the date?" He rolled his eyes before groaning, thinking the reason that his sister was freaking out at him was because she was actually fugly and gave a fake pic. Or, maybe she really was a dude?

"Bells, do you seriously not recognize her name?" Octavia shook her head. "I mean, it was a decade ago, but I figured you'd remember the name when you read it off?"

"What are you talking about?" He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at his baby sister. A decade? Had he dated this girl in the past or something? Was his sister meddling in his life again?

"Dude, Bellamy, the girl you picked, you went to high school with her. _Clarke Griffin_." He stared at her blankly. She sighed. "_Princess_." It was then that he realized why the name was familiar. He narrowed his eyes at his baby sister, because she was obviously trying to fuck with him by picking the girl that he hated in high school, because she was a _perfect_ _princess_ who could do no wrong in the eyes of everyone.

"No matter which piece of paper I picked would've been her name, right?" She nodded her head. "You rigged this? Why? To fuck with me, O? You promised me a night with someone who wouldn't make me want to kill myself or _her_."

"It's not like that. She'll be good for your image, Bell. She's a doctor, for fuck's sake." He rolled his eyes. Of course she's a fucking doctor, he thought to himself. "Plus, she volunteers at animal shelters, and she teaches art classes to kids at homeless shelters and in hospitals. She tweets inspirational quotes and pictures of animals that need homes. She's _nice_, and I think hitching yourself to a _nice girl_ right now will do wonders for your career and keep you from getting killed off of the movie series you've worked your ass off on for the last five years."

"But she's a stuck up, perfect bitch. She always was in high school."

"Yeah, well, if you don't get your ass in there and fix this, she's gonna bail on the one date, and you'll be royally fucked." He squeezed his hands into fists and pushed passed his sister, ignoring her, "Bell, wait! Calm down!"

"You're not cancelling on this fucking date, _Princess_" he said, storming into the office, arms crossed, glaring at the blonde girl he hadn't seen in a decade. She was sitting next to some nervous looking redhead. The redhead was pretty hot, he thought momentarily, but his attention was on Clarke Griffin, who narrowed her eyes and stood up, her own arms crossed.

"I told you in high school, and I'll tell you _again_ now, don't call me that!" She snapped. "I'm not doing this damn thing, because I was _NOT_ the one who entered. Do you honestly think that I'd want to go on a date with you..._ever_?" He was momentarily hurt by her rejection, but he pushed it aside, focusing on his anger.

"Feeling's mutual, _Princess_, but you're doing this if I fucking have to do this. I didn't want to do this from the beginning, but Kane pushed it on me, and your name was picked, so you're doing it."

"Yeah, _no_, not happening."

"Jesus Christ!" Octavia snapped, and everyone in the room turned to stare at her. She crossed her arms and glared at Bellamy before turning her glare onto Clarke. Kane took a step forward, sighing, holding a hand out, but she brushed him off. "Shut up for five seconds, everyone!" She said, shooting Kane a glare when he opened his mouth to speak. "Bellamy, you need to stop being an asshole. You acting like the manchild you are is not going to convince her to follow through with this goddamn date." Clarke laughed, earning a glare from Bellamy and Octavia. "And _you_," Octavia said, pointing at Clarke. "_I chose you_, because from all that I could remember in high school and the research I did on your social media pages from today, you're a _nice_ person. If my brother is going to go on a date with someone for a stupid contest, he deserves to go on a date with someone nice."

"Except _Princess_ isn't fucking nice. She's a stuck up bitch!" Bellamy snapped.

"Fuck you, Bellamy!" Clarke snapped. "You're an egotistical asshole who needs to get the fuck off of his high horse." He remembered how feisty she got when he messed with her in high school-she actually became pretty hot. The last ten years had been good to her, so she was even hotter now when she got pissed. If she wasn't the evil bitch that she was, he'd probably try to fuck her, but she was the _princess bitch_, so that wasn't happening.

"I could say the same to you!" He shouted back at her.

* * *

><p>Clarke could kill Bellamy. She really could. She wanted to punch him in the face, and it took everything in her <em>not<em> to. "You don't fucking know me!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, and she saw his eyes widen momentarily before his mask slipped back into place. "You didn't know me then, Bellamy, and you certainly don't know me now. I was never a bitch. I just had pride in how well I did in school and my future and being nice to other people. If you remember correctly, it was never me who started anything. That was all _you_. _You_ made it your mission to make _my_ high school experience a nightmare. Why? Because my parents had money? That was never my fault, and it was never fair of you to take it out on me!"

He was silent, and she felt the inside of her right wrist start to itch and burn. She fought it as long as she could, but she couldn't hold it back, and she began to scratch at the skin hidden beneath the bracelets. She felt Kate lay a hand on her left hand, stilling her scratching. "Clarke," she said with a concerned voice, and Clarke couldn't handle it in that moment. She shook Kate off, shoving her right hand behind her back, before she tightened her left hand into a fist to keep herself from scratching. "I'm sorry that I entered you in this contest," Kate told her. Clarke watched as Kate turned her focus onto Bellamy. "I never understood why she hate you so much, but now I can see how toxic the two of you are in the same room. After I found out that you two went to high school together, I just thought it would be amusing to get you two in the same room again, but I was wrong." Kate wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I think we should go."

"Wait, please, don't!" Octavia blocked their exit, holding her hands up to stop them from leaving. "Look, can we just...fuck, I need a drink."

"Me, too," Clarke said, and she locked eyes with Bellamy when he said it at the same time as her. He chuckled, and she looked away.

"Sorry, princess, but Kane only has bourbon." She narrowed her eyes at him, before she glanced at Kane, who had been very quiet throughout all of the arguing. He was now sitting behind his desk, his face in his hands. She didn't even remember seeing him move away from them, because she was so caught up in fighting with Bellamy.

"Is it Jack Daniels?" She asked Kane. "The bourbon?" Without lifting his head from his hands, he nodded at her. "Good," she said turning her gaze back to Bellamy. He smirked at her, walking over to where Kane stored his booze. He poured barely any bourbon in a glass, reaching for the bottle of water that was sitting beside the bourbon. He watered the booze down, holding the glass out to her. She scoffed, walking over to the bottles. "I can make my own, thanks." She grabbed the bottle of bourbon and an empty glass, and she poured about three fingers worth of the amber liquid into a glass. She raised the glass to her lips and stared Bellamy down as she finished the drink in three gulps. He smirked at her, amused, drinking the watered down drink in his hands before filling both of their glasses with more bourbon.

"Alright, we all know that Clarke can drink bourbon as well as Bellamy can, so can we get back to the discussion?" Octavia said with a sigh as she dropped onto Kane's couch. "Here's the deal. We all know that Bellamy's rep will take a nosedive if the girl who won his date contest bailed on him. You wouldn't want to be responsible for that, right, Clarke?"

Clarke sighed, downing her drink before she set it down on the tray where she got it from originally. "I was never a bitch, Bellamy." She said after a moment, turning to look at him. "Even if you're an asshole, I will not be the one who's responsible for messing up your career. So, I will follow through with the date, and then we go back to never speaking to each other again." She held her hand out to him, and he stared at her for a moment before he took hers in his.

After their shake was finished, she grabbed her glass and moved away from him to sit down on the couch nearby Octavia. She sipped her second glass of bourbon, looking to Kane. "So, when is this date taking place?"

"Are you leaving town for the holiday, Clarke, because I'd love to capitalize on the date as soon as possible."

"Nope. I'm here."

"Wonderful, would the Saturday after the holiday work for you? There's a movie premiere that I have two tickets to-"

"No." Clarke cut him off, shaking her head. She couldn't go on a date on that Saturday. She watched as Kate walked over to where Bellamy was still standing by the booze and poured herself a drink.

"But, Clarke, this would be the perfect-"

"No, Mr. Kane." Kate answered for Clarke. "Clarke's busy that night."

"What are you, her personal assistant?" Bellamy scoffed from where he was standing beside Kate. She rolled her eyes.

"No, but I am her agent." Clarke's eyes widened, and she shot Kate a glare.

"Her agent?" Bellamy asked, glancing at Clarke. "O, I thought that you said that you guys vetoed any actresses and the like. I thought you said she was a doctor."

"I did!" Octavia mumbled, looking at Kate and Clarke. "You put Clarke went to med school and that she was employed-" Clarke gulped down the remaining bourbon in her glass, setting it on the coffee table in front of her, distracting Octavia from speaking to Kate.

"I'm not an actress." She snapped, running a hand through her hair. "Or, a doctor. Well, I technically am, because I finished medical school, but I never started my residency. I never talk about where I work or what I do. I just let people assume that I'm a doctor, because I say I went to Stanford for med school, and that I'm constantly working." She sighed. "Thanks, Kate."

"Sorry, Clarke. I didn't even think, but since the cat is out of the bag, we may as well go all out." Kate ignored the glare that Clarke sent her way. "I'm an artist's agent. Clarke's a professional artist. Her art's been sold to a number of private collectors around Los Angeles, as well as the rest of the nation. She's actually a pretty big deal. She's got an art show next Saturday, so she can't go out that night."

"You're an artist?" Bellamy asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Yes, I sign my paintings as CEG, though, and that's what people know me as. I generally like to keep myself out of the public eye." She shot a glare at Kate, who blushed. "Yet another reason for why I never would've agreed to do this contest even if it was with a person I actually found tolerable." Bellamy glared at her as he gulped down his bourbon, pouring himself another drink.

"Screw you, Princess."

"In your dreams, Blake."

Kate dug through her pocket, pulling out her cell phone, typing into it. "I've got her schedule here." She said, trying to change the subject. She walked over to Kane. "So, she's setting up in the gallery on Friday, so that wouldn't work." She glanced at Clarke. "She does have an event scheduled for Wednesday night, but I think that could be rearranged…"

Clarke swallowed, grabbing her empty glass before rushing over to the bourbon once more. She poured herself a hefty glass. "Yes, I can skip that." She nodded her head. "Any excuse to skip that."

"Right, so would the Wednesday before the holiday work for Bellamy's schedule? We could schedule it for seven that night?" Clarke chugged her drink, and she felt the warmth spread through her. She was kind of buzzed. She had originally drank the bourbon as a way to challenge Bellamy's suggestion that she was a delicate flower who couldn't handle a real drink, but the second and third glasses were her own choice.

"This is the strangest way I've ever scheduled a date…" He said quietly to her as they watched their agents discuss the schedule of their lives like it was no big deal.

"I know. I feel like I should tell you that I come with six dresses and their matching underthings, three emerald necklaces, and a goat." She responded back to him, earning a belly laugh in response. Everyone's eyes flew to them, because they were amazed that the two of them were acting civilly. She rolled her eyes.

"That dowry is simply preposterous," he told her, ignoring the stares of the other three people in the room. "I won't take you for anything less than two goats. Or, one cow. A cow is the equivalent of two goats in my book." She shook her head.

"You're lucky you're even getting the one goat, mister!"

"Damn, Kate, the sexual tension in this room is almost stifling." Octavia said from where she was seated. Kate laughed, and Kane hid his smile behind a fake cough.

"There's a fine line between love and hate, Octavia." Kate added, earning Clarke flipping her off. Bellamy scoffed, and Clarke grimaced.

"Fuck off, Kate. Remember, I've got lots of dirt on you."

"Not as much as I have on you, Griffin." Kate winked.

"Two words: German tourist." Kate scrunched her nose.

"Three words: drunken moonbounce sex." Clarke's jaw dropped, because Kate had sworn that she'd never bring that up in front of anyone else again.

"Now, Princess, that's a story that I'd love to hear…" Bellamy said with a smirk. Clarke elbowed him in the gut.

"Kate, you're such a bitch!" She pressed a hand to her forehead.

"You brought up the German tourist!"

"Yeah, but they wouldn't know what it meant!"

"But it implied that I did something inappropriate with him, though!"

"Yeah, but now everybody knows that I had sex on a moonbounce when I was drunk!"

"That sounds like a lot of fun, actually." Octavia laughed, clapping her hands. "When did you do it? Was it recently? Why were you around a moonbounce?"

"Clarke's ex-boyfriend got his master's in aeronautics and astronautics from Stanford." Kate smiled, ignoring Clarke's shout of "Kate!" Instead, she kept going. Clarke was seriously going to kill her. "He fancied himself a future astronaut, so he regularly rented moonbounces to practice zero-gravity walking. She's also had a lot of pool sex." Clarke groaned, burying her face in her hands. "You know, 'cause they practice working on the spaceships underwater, so her ex used to sneak her into the pools to play screw the astronaut."

"I hate you. I disown you as my best friend. I tell you this in confidence, and this is how you betray me."

"Actually, I'm having fun. You having fun, O?" Bellamy laughed, taking a sip of his bourbon. Octavia giggled. "If I'd know that this was the real Clarke…" He trailed off, wagging his eyebrows.

"What would you have done, Bellamy? Would you have been less of an asshole, all in the hopes that you'd get into my pants?" Clarke asked him, her arms crossed. She shook her head.

"Didn't you kiss her in high school?" Kate asked, looking between the two. Clarke blushed, and Bellamy cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I kissed you? I never kissed you."

"Junior year. Tucker Bishop's party. You were drunk. I was bored out of my mind. You then said that you were dared to do it." She gave him a fake smile. "Yet another reason for why I didn't want to go on this stupid date."

"Holy shit! Ha! I don't remember that." She glared at him when he laughed. "Aww, did I hurt your feelings, Princess?"

"No, I actually slapped you afterwards, and then you said you were dared, so if anything, I'm guessing that you weren't dared, and you only said that to protect your bruised ego." She smiled at him, patting his shoulder. She tried to ignore the buzz that went through her when she felt how muscular his arm was. That was just the booze confusing her.

"Princess, I don't care how drunk I was, I wouldn't have kissed you, so if I said I was dared, then I was dared."

"You're such an asshole. You're lucky that I'm a nice person. Now if you'd excuse me, I've got some errands. I think I've interrupted my day enough for you."

"Like you had any real plans for today that were better than seeing my handsome face again." She shook her head at him, because his ego was turned on her heel, grabbing her bag from where she left it on the coffee table.

"I swear to God, if you're late on Wednesday, I will cut off your _little_ friend." She pointed at him.

"There's nothing little about it, Princess." She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Octavia, it was lovely to see you again. Kane, nice to meet you. Let's go, Brutus."

"It was wonderful meeting all of you! I had a lot of fun." Kate winked at Bellamy, smiled warmly at Octavia, and shook hands with Kane.

"Bye, Clarke! Bye, Kate!" Octavia waved goodbye, an amused smile on her face.

"Clarke, Kate, it was lovely to meet you both." Kane extended to Clarke, who shook his hand quickly. She marched out the room, dragging Kate behind her by the wrist. She had a major headache, because she didn't get out of this stupid date, and Kate had aired a lot of her dirty laundry in front of someone she'd never want to know her most private secrets.


	4. Chapter 4

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: Part 1 of the Bellarke contest date! There will be humor. There will be sexual tension. There will be some drama. It will be long! It will be fun! Also, to one of the guest reviewers: yes, but no. I will explain further in a later chapter. **

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><p>Bellamy parked his car outside of Clarke's building. It was seven on the dot (he didn't want to risk any harm coming to his junk, and after learning just how much of a freak the princess was, he didn't doubt she'd come after his junk with a knife or scissors after all), and he let out a breath before he climbed out of the car. He could've called her, told her that he was here-hell, he could've just texted her, but he was pretty sure that the paps were trailing him, so it was important for him to get out of the car and meet her in the lobby of her building. He crossed the street, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blazer. He'd texted Clarke to go casual but nice, to which she responded: <em>what does that even mean<em>? Well, in his book, casual but nice meant a pair of dark wash jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a black blazer. He'd probably lose the blazer at some point, and he wanted to be comfortable. It was a nice t-shirt. High quality. It probably cost more than a years worth of rent in the shit box place that he and O had moved into after their mom died (okay, so, maybe not one year's worth, but pretty damn close).

He walked into the lobby of her building, and he saw a security guard look up from where he was seated behind the desk. The man's eyes widened momentarily, indicating that he recognized who Bellamy was, but he regained his composure, putting a suspicious voice on as he waved Bellamy over. "May I help you, sir?"

"I'm picking up Clarke Griffin." Bellamy cleared his throat when his voice came out scratchy. This was all so strange for him. The security guard eyed him for a moment before he reached for the phone, lifting the mouthpiece to his face. Not letting his eyes leave Bellamy's, the guard typed three numbers.

"Hello, Miss Griffin. This is Jerry from the front desk. Yes, I'm wonderful tonight, ma'am. Yes, I know that you ask me to call you Clarke, ma'am, but I really shouldn't." Bellamy rolled his eyes as he listened to the exchange. "Yes, ma'am, my daughter's birthday is next Friday. Why, Miss Griffin, I do appreciate that, but-yes, ma'am. Oh, and chocolate chip is wonderful. Thank you, ma'am." The security guard blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Right, so the reason why I called, ma'am is to inform you that there is a man here for you. Yes, ma'am, it appears that it is him." He paused, studying Bellamy, who felt a little uncomfortable. "He's wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a blazer, ma'am. No, ma'am, I have no idea what casual but nice is supposed to mean, either." Bellamy groaned, his head falling back.

"May I-Jerry, is it?" He held his hand out to the security guard, who furrowed his brow.

"It appears that Mr. Blake is requesting to speak with you, Miss Griffin." Jerry paused, nodding his head once. "Yes, ma'am. Good night, ma'am." He held the phone out to Bellamy, who sighed, pressing it to his ear.

"Jesus Christ, Princess. Are you still not ready?"

"Hello to you, too, Bellamy. Now, I'm completely ready...I just...okay, so what did you mean by casual but nice? I always dress nicely. And, casual to me is a pair of jeans or leggings and a t-shirt. But, men can pull off jeans and a tee without looking slovenly, but if we're going to a nice restaurant, _I_ can't wear that kind of outfit. Which brings us to skirts or dresses or maybe a nice pair of slacks? So, what is it that you mean by casual but nice?" He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Princess, put on fucking clothing and get your ass down here. Either that or I'm coming up, throwing you over my shoulder, and carrying you out of this damn building, even if the only thing you are wearing is a thong and a bra."

"No need to be rude, Bellamy," she snapped into the phone. "I'm just trying to look respectable and appropriate. Please give me some idea of where we're going tonight?"

"We're going to dinner and a club, Princess. Two places where we will be seen by a lot of people who will want to snap photos. Happy? Does that help you with figuring out what the hell you should be wearing?"

"A club? Why didn't you just say that originally?" He sighed.

"I don't know, Princess. How could I have possibly kept it to myself that we were going to a club? Jesus. Are you dressed yet? Or, do I need to come upstairs?"

"Oh, calm down, Bellamy. I'm on my way…" He heard the hesitation in her voice. "It's just...what kind of restaurant are we going to, because certain kinds of club wear are not appropriate for certain kinds of restaurants."

"That's it! I'm on my way up!"

"Wait! Stop! I'll be down in five." The line went dead, and he let out another deep sigh before he held the phone back to Jerry.

"Women…" He said with an eye roll, and a smile slipped onto his face when Jerry's lips twitched as he hung up the phone.

True to her world, Clarke was down within five minutes. Her hair appeared to be French braided in a halo around the crown of her head, and she was dressed in a light purple dress that was fitted under her bust, but was loose until the hem, which fell about halfway down her thighs. She wore a pair of black heels on her feet, and a bunch of black chunky (he thought that is what Octavia called it) jewelry on her ears, around her neck, and on her right wrist. She was holding a black clutch purse in one hand, along with a yellow bag with bright blue tissue paper sticking out of it, and a Tupperware container of what looked like cookies.

"Hi, Jerry!" She smiled brightly at him, leaving the cookies and yellow bag in front of him. "Here's the cookies for you and a present for your daughter's fifteenth birthday."

"Miss Griffin, you didn't have to do that." She waved him off.

"Jerry, please call me Clarke." She said sternly, wagging a finger at him. "The cookies are a thank you for rescuing my package from that kid in 401, and as for the present, it's just a couple of DVDs of some of my favorite movies from when I was growing up as a teen. I'm sure she'll love them."

"You're too kind, Miss Clarke." She laid a hand on the older man's, squeezing it, before she turned her attention on Bellamy.

"Hey, Bellamy." She looked him up and down. "You look nice." She twisted the hem of her skirt slightly in her hand. "Am I dressed appropriately? Do I fit the casual but nice category that you requested?"

Bellamy could hardly hear her, though, because he was too busy being wrapped up in how _cute_ she looked. He hated that word, _cute_, but it was true. Everything from her hair to her dress to her makeup to her demeanor. Clarke was _cute_, and it pissed him off. He cleared his throat before giving her a smirk. "You look fine. Ready?" She stopped playing with her dress, and she looked away for a moment before nodding her head. She pushed past him, heading toward the door.

"Mr. Blake, I'm sorry if I'm overstepping, but you're an idiot." Jerry shook his head, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes at the security guard. "Just tell the girl you think she's pretty, especially when you actually think _she is pretty_." With that, Jerry shooed him from the building. Bellamy gave him a wave goodbye and went outside to find Clarke waiting for him.

"Ready to go?" She asked him, and he nodded, guiding her to his car. He opened the door for her, and she nodded her head in thanks.

They drove quietly, nothing more than the soft music coming from the radio. She sighed, reaching for the knob, changing it to some sugary pop song. He shot her a look, but she merely gave him a sweet smile, humming along with the song as it played. They made it to the restaurant in one piece, with no bloodshed. Then, again, there was hardly any dialogue either. It was just quiet, aside from the sounds of traffic around them, the music filling the car, and occasionally her quiet hums.

"So, to break the ice, why don't you tell me about moonbounce sex. Is it fun? Does the bounce make it easier to-" She reached across the table at the restaurant to press her hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, no, not having that conversation." Clarke said to Bellamy with a shake of her head, dropping her hand. She sat back, grabbing her glass of white wine, staring at it as she swirled the golden liquid around in the goblet. "You do stupid things when you're in love, right?" She raised the glass to her lips, taking a sip.

"And, when you're drunk." He held out his own glass, and she chuckled, tapping hers against his. "I could probably fit a moonbounce in my backyard, so if you ever want-" She narrowed her eyes at him, and he laughed. "It was worth a shot."

"You're an asshole." She shook her head. The waiter came over, dropping off their dinners, and as she was twirling her pasta around on her fork, she glanced up at him. She caught him studying her, and she blushed. He smiled at her, scratching the back of his head before he dug into his own meal. He couldn't help but think that this wasn't exactly the worst date that he'd ever been on.

* * *

><p>After dinner, Bellamy walked Clarke to his car, once again opening the door for her. She brushed past him on her way in, and if he was a stupid teen, he would've been hyperventilating over a beautiful woman touching him and the <em>sparks<em> that ran up and down his spine. He _wasn't_ a stupid teen, though, so to distract himself from the fact that he did get a few tingles at the feel of her body against his (she was sexy; there was no way he wasn't getting tight in the pants at her body rubbing against his), he did what every asshole does. He grabbed her ass. She turned around, smacking his chest and arms a few times, and he just smirked and winked at her.

She spent the majority of the car ride to the club huffing and puffing, her arms crossed. What she didn't realize was that he could see the pink twinge on her cheeks that was definitely _not_ from her blush, but rather because she was _blushing_. If she were anyone else, in that moment, he would've known that he sealed the deal and was going to get laid that night, but she was a princess, and even if he was having an okay enough time and she'd probably be a good lay, that was so _NOT_ happening.

"Um, Bellamy," he glanced over at her as he pulled onto the street where _Spacewalk_ was. It was a popular club, and it was where Lincoln and Octavia were out and about for their first official date in the public eye. He planned on stopping by, letting is date with the contest winner overshadow his sister's date with Lincoln Travers to limit the bad press that a Linctavia romance could possibly get, considering Travers was in the middle of a heated divorce with Lexa. Plus, if he and Lincoln played nice in a crowd of people, he'd squash any rumors about their troubles on set. When he glanced at the blonde beside him, he saw that she was paler than usual and her hands were squeezed into fists. "We're not going to _Spacewalk_, right?" Her voice was breathy, and if she were naked and in his bed (or, hell, anywhere for that matter, he wasn't picky), then he'd find the sound sexy, but right now she looked nervous.

"Uh, yeah. My sister's here with Lincoln Travers. I have to make an appearance for a number of reasons. Our date will distract from the fact that Octavia's on a date with a man in the middle of a heated divorce. Plus, if I'm seen playing nice with Travers, people will think that there isn't a problem between the two of us, which there is. The asshole's a decade older than my baby sister. That shit isn't cool."

"I don't think that...maybe I could just wait here in the car, and you could go in, make an appearance, do a bro-hug and drink a beer with Lincoln, all smiles for fans snapping pictures, and then come back, and we could go somewhere else, okay?"

"Why are you being weird? It's just a club." He pulled up in front of the club and climbed out. He saw her twisting her fingers in her lap. He smiled at the fans waiting in line of the club who cheered and shouted his name. Girls begged him to come take pictures with him, but he just held a hand up to them as he walked around the car to go to the passenger side. He opened the door, and she swallowed, biting her lip. Why the fuck was she being so weird? "We'll stay for less than a half an hour, and I'll take you home or somewhere else, okay?" She nodded her head, climbing out of the seat, gripping his hand like her life depended on it. A valet came forward to collect his keys to the car.

"Oh, hey, Clarke! I didn't realize you were coming tonight. You know Bellamy Blake?" His eyebrows rose, and he turned to study the blonde woman squeezing the shit out of his hand.

"Hi, Sterling…" She swallowed. "Bellamy and I actually went to high school together, believe it or not. Listen, I talk to you later. Have a good holiday tomorrow, okay? Say hi to Mel for me, alright?" He nodded his head, taking the keys from Bellamy's hand, waving goodbye to the both of them.

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><p>Clarke could feel Bellamy's eyes on her as she drug him by the hand toward the entrance to <em>Spacewalk<em>. She was doing the breathing exercises that her grief therapist taught her after her dad died, but her vision was a little splotchy. Of all the fucking places that Bellamy could've brought her after dinner, it was, of course, _Spacewalk_. She could feel it in the way that he gripped her hand almost as tightly as she gripped his that he had questions. She let out a breath of relief when she saw who was the bouncer that night.

"Clarke!" She grinned at Miller, letting go of Bellamy's hand to accept Miller's hug. She stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, stepping away from him. He left his hands on her waist, and she laid both of hers on his forearms. "I thought you weren't coming tonight?"

"I, uh, didn't plan on it, but Bellamy needed to make an appearance, so here we are." Miller glanced over her shoulder at Bellamy, and she felt him tighten his hold on her waist, making her squeeze his arms lightly.

"Right, I heard about the contest thing." He narrowed his eyes at Bellamy. "If you need anything at all tonight, come find me, yeah?" He turned his gaze back onto Clarke, and she blushed, rolling her eyes. The big brother act was so annoying, but she loved him for it.

"Oh, stop it! I'm fine. Wells and Kate here yet?"

"Yeah, they're back in VIP with everybody else." Clarke took a deep breath. "Well, not everyone." She nodded her head.

"Cool, we'll say a quick hello to them before we go find Bellamy's sister. You're coming tomorrow, right?"

"Of course. Harper's making some weird ass yam dish that you won't eat." Clarke chuckled.

"I'm glad I'm a vegan, because I can get away with _not_ eating your girlfriend's attempts at cooking." Miller scrunched his nose and shook his head.

"Alright, you guys better get inside before his fans start stripping and propositioning him." Miller nodded to the girls in line who were getting rowdy and calling out obscene things to Bellamy. She shook her head. Class acts. "Harper and I are looking forward to your show on Saturday. We want to get something for the bedroom."

Clarke winked at him. "You can't afford me." She reached for Bellamy's hand, pulling him past Miller as she blew him a kiss. "But in all seriousness, I'll paint you guys something. No charge." She said as the two of them slipped inside of the club.

"Well, princess. It seems like you've got some explaining to do…" Bellamy breathed in Clarke's ear. He was pressed close to her body, both of his hands now on her hips as he guided her further into the building. She closed her eyes for a moment, because it always turned her on when a man whispered in her ear, but this was _Bellamy Blake_, and she was _not_ attracted to him, so she willed her eyes open and to take a step away from him.

When they entered the main room of the club, she glanced around at the writhing bodies beneath the flashing lights and thumping techno music. The waitresses were dressed in shiny silver shorts and skintight silver crop tops with the words _Spacewalk_ in loopy letters across their busts. They also had thigh-high silver boots on. The furniture was silver, black, and white, going with the space theme. The walls were painted a dark gray color, except for two of them. There, _she_ had painted two giant murals. The first mural was an astronaut connected by a cord, floating in the air, working on the side of a spaceship. The other was an image of the earth as the sun was rising nearby, from what was intended to look like the window of a space station. "Did you paint them?" He asked, once again his lips pressed against her ear so that she could hear him over the loud music and thrum of bodies moving in time with it. She nodded her head, and he squeezed her hip. "I didn't realize I was the one out with a celebrity tonight." He joked, his lips brushing against her cheek as he pulled away. She swallowed.

"Um, can we make a quick stop in the VIP section?"

"That's probably where my sister is anyways."

"No. It's closed down tonight for a private party." She grabbed his hand, pulling him around scantily clad women gyrating against men with slicked back hair and grins on their faces. She prayed to God that her hand wasn't sweaty in his, because she was so insanely nervous-nervous about the blending of her old life with her new one (except Wells, who had never left her and had grown with her into her new life). Her back felt like there was a metal rod in place of her spine, with no give, and she squeezed his fingers tightly in his. She felt him pull his hand from hers, and she looked back, confused, only to realize that he was already reconnecting their hands by threading his fingers through hers. It was a lot more comfortable to hold his hand that way than her attempts at wrapping her small fingers around his larger ones, but it was also a lot more intimate. She tried her best to remain focused on the comfort aspect and _not_ on the intimacy of their interlaced fingers and the pressure of his palm against hers.

They reached the VIP area, which was blocked off with a sign that said that the area was closed for a private party. There were a number of people in the room already. Kate and Wells were dancing, along with a few other people she had met over the years but wasn't exactly close to-they were _their_ friends. Monty was behind the bar, mixing and pouring drinks. Jasper and his wife, Maya, were chatting on one of the couches that was facing the cloth robes, overlooking the gyrating crowd.

"Hey, guys!" She called out to everyone, waving her hand. Monty waved from the bar, continuing to fill glasses on a tray. Kate stopped dancing with Wells, rushing over to her, with Wells limping slowly behind her. The redhead hesitated, her eyes widening and one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose when her gaze fell on Clarke and Bellamy's interlocked hands. She attempted to pull her hand free from his, but he tightened his hold. She glanced at him, squeezing his hand once, but didn't try to pull her hand away again, because she actually liked the feeling of his hand pressed against hers. Before Kate could question them, Jasper and Maya were crowding her, throwing their arms around her at the same time, so she was caught between the goggles hanging from Jasper's neck ("dude, Clarke, they go with the space theme, okay? Like, I'm one of the pilots of this spaceship!" - that is what Jasper told her when she questioned him the first time she saw him with the goggles hanging from his neck) and Maya's thick, dark curls. "Clarkey," Jasper grinned, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'm glad you're here. I also can't believe you're here _with_ Bellamy Blake!"

"I thought you weren't coming?" Kate was still staring at their hands.

"Bellamy's sister is here with Lincoln, so…"

"Ah, right, distraction 101. 'Look at me with my contest winner date!'" Kate nodded her head. "They're not here yet."

"Miller told me. I just wanted to say hi to you all before we went to find Octavia and Lincoln. I'm hoping to miss them completely. Anyways, let me introduce you to everyone, Bellamy. This is Jasper and Maya. You know Kate, and this is Wells."

"Clarke, you look beautiful." She smiled warmly Wells, pulling her hand from Bellamy's with some effort in order to wrap her arms around Wells' neck. "How're you doing?" Wells asked her, grazing her right wrist on his way out of the hug. She brushed off his concern with a wide smile and a shake of her head.

The second that she released Wells completely, she felt Bellamy's hand connect with hers once more. She gave him a slight head nod to acknowledge that even though he was typically a charming, confident person, when he was around her friends, he felt out of place. It was how she felt in high school when she went to parties for Wells' dad and her parents' fancy, rich friends, as well as the parties with her classmates. The only time she ever felt really comfortable and safe was with Wells, when she was painting and around other artists (and they were notorious for tearing into your work without a moment's hesitation), and the wonderful people she had met at Stanford and in Los Angeles. Surprisingly, she felt comfortable around Bellamy, as well, which contradicted how she felt around him when she knew him growing up.

"I'll be fine as long as I can get out of here before _everyone_ shows up." Clarke said to Wells. He nodded, turning his attention to Bellamy.

"Bellamy Blake. I'm Wells Jaha, Clarke's best friend." He extended his hand to Bellamy, who reached out and took it.

"I thought Kate was her best friend," Bellamy said with a smile as they shook hands. "It's nice to meet you though. I know I saw you on TV a lot in high school because of your dad."

"And now I see you on TV a lot because of your job." Wells joked. "But as for whether or not who her true best friend is, I was there first." He winked at Kate who scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, but I'm the best friend with the vagina whom Clarke can bitch about men, too."

"Been there, done that, sweetheart. Who do you think heard it all before you came along?" Wells grinned at Kate before leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips. "You're my _very best friend_, though."

"I better be." Kate purred, and Clarke, Jasper, and Maya groaned at their display.

"Enough of the cuteness!" Clarke complained. "I feel like I should be jealous that my two best friends don't consider me to be their number one best friend."

"Oh, you are." Kate grinned at her. "You're my best girl friend, and he's my best friend with a penis that I get to regularly fuck."

"Gross!" Jasper plugged his ears, while Kate, Clarke, and Maya laughed. Bellamy and Wells looked a little uncomfortable. Clarke squeezed Bellamy's hand in hers. He looked at her with a scrunched nose, and she couldn't help but find him adorable in that moment. She glanced away, focusing back on her friends. She was saved by Monty rushing over with a tray of moonshine.

"Moonshine, everyone! My best batch yet!" He said with a grin, making Clarke grimace slightly as she reached for a glass. She saw Bellamy cock an eyebrow at her, but she just winked.

"_Our_, Monty. _Our _best batch," Jasper said as he grabbed his own glass.

"Right, sorry, _our_." Monty said with an eye roll. He nodded to Bellamy. "'Sup, dude. I'm Monty."

"Bellamy Blake. Nice to meet you," he said, taking a glass of the moonshine from the tray. "Nice to meet all of you. _Officially,_" he said with with a nod to Monty and Jasper. Clarke figured that Bellamy had frequented their club a lot over the two years it had been open.

"You fucking Clarke?"

"Oh, my God, Monty!" Clarke squeaked. Monty looked pointedly at her hand in Bellamy's. Bellamy laughed, winking at her, making her turn bright red. She pulled her hand away from his with some effort, which made him throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her close to him.

"It's cool, Clarke. You need a good lay. You've been a little bitchy lately." Jasper said with a nod, wrapping an arm around Maya's shoulders.

"Fuck you both." She snapped, pulling out of from under Bellamy's arm. "Bottoms up!" She muttered knocking her glass of moonshine back in one large gulp.

"Shit, Clarke! This is a delicacy. It should be sipped...enjoyed!" Monty admonished her. Clarke coughed, shaking her head.

"Fuck, that tastes like lighter fluid."

"Um, that's how we make it! Duh!" Jasper sighed. She flipped them both off.

"Damn, Clarke," Bellamy said, leaning down to breathe into her ear. "That was kind of hot."

"And, you're kind of an asshole." She responded, and he just winked at her, downing his own drink. She smiled when she saw him wince.

"Well, I was going to toast to the engagement from Hell, but since two of the drinks are already gone, I say fuck it." Monty said, the final glass of moonshine in his hand and the tray tucked under one of his arms, and he lifted his glass to his lips. Clarke soured. She watched as everyone else started in on their own glass, wishing she had another drink.

"Take mine," Maya said, handing over the moonshine. Clarke passed off her empty glass to Monty. "I'm not going to stay much longer. I'm sure Nina's driving Penny crazy." She took the glass from her appreciatively and downed it.

"You three are more than welcome tomorrow," she said to Monty, Jasper, and Maya (with the fourth being Nina, Maya and Jasper's one year old daughter). She was hoping to change the subject.

"Nah, with my parents in town, we're having dinner at our place. Thanks for the offer, though." Jasper told her with a smile.

"So, who's getting married?" Bellamy asked when they all presented Monty with their empty glasses. Everyone looked to her to respond, and she sighed, opening her mouth, but before she could even respond, she was interrupted.

"Clarke!" She turned around to see Miller rushing up to her.

"Why aren't you manning the door?"

"Graham just came on shift, and as I was headed inside for the party, I saw them pull up. Sterling was going to park their car."

"Shit. Thanks, Miller. Bye, all! C'mon, Blake." Clarke grabbed Bellamy by the forearm and began dragging him away from the VIP section. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wave at her friends. He pulled his arm free from her grasp, once more interlacing their fingers. She let out a breath as she guided him away from her friends, hoping to avoid the two people she had originally planned on not seeing that night. Unfortunately, her life sucked, and she guided him right into the path of the third and final owner of _Spacewalk_, Finn Collins. She paled. "Finn…"


	5. Chapter 5

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: Part 2 of the Bellarke contest date! There will be MORE drama. There will be MORE sexual tension. There will be MORE humor. Yay! This one will solely be from Bellamy's POV. The next chapter will be solely from Clarke's POV.**

**Also, after the latest AskEliza session on twitter, I now know what her wrist tattoo is. It's her mom's name, Lucinda. Obviously that doesn't work for my story, so I'm going to change it to something else.**

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><p>didn't know what to make of Clarke's knowledge of <em>Spacewalk<em>. Had he seen her here during the many times he'd frequented the club? Did the owners of the club commission her to paint the artwork on the walls and that was why she was so popular with much of the staff? It was all confusing-most of all, the way that his stomach twisted into knots every time her hand found his.

Then, she introduced him to Monty Green and Jasper Jordan, two of the owners of _Spacewalk_, as well as her other close friends, and he realized that there was more to their relationship than a commissioned artist and the people who employed her. They were her friends. He didn't know why he was so shocked by Clarke having friends-of course she had friends-but, perhaps, he was just shocked that Clarke fit so well in the Hollywood life, something he didn't expect when he thought back to the nerdy girl he knew in high school, whose nose was always buried in a book with a pencil behind her ear and a paint brush holding her bun in place on the back of her head.

This Clarke-the smart, beautiful, funny, late-twenties Clarke-was an enigma to him. He spent much of the time with her friends quiet and lost, because he didn't know what to say or do around her. As he spent more time with her, he came to realize just how wrong he'd been around her. It was unsettling, because he was _never_ wrong about people. He was _never_ unsure of himself around people. He was always the confident, charming, center of attention Bellamy. He didn't recognize the person he was around her.

It was now Bellamy's turn to see an especially unsettled Clarke. When she pulled him directly into the path of the third man, whom he knew as the final owner of _Spacewalk_, Finn Collins, she'd gone pale and twitchy. The man in front of him wasn't all that intimidating in appearance-tall, lanky but muscular, with chin length hair that he'd brushed out of his face. Dark eyes bore down onto Clarke, his handsome face (what? Bellamy was secure enough in his sexuality that he could admit when another dude was pretty, and Finn was _pretty_) softening into a look of longing and apologeticness. Clarke, on the other hand, looked hurt, fearful, _sad_. He didn't like that look on her.

"Finn…" Clarke gripped his hand tightly in hers, and out of instinct, he stepped closer to her so that his side was flush against hers. The way that she said the man's name was so full of heartbreak, betrayal, and loneliness, it made Bellamy's own heart snap in two. He wasn't that guy. Once again, he felt off-balance around Clarke, taking on her emotions, wanting to do everything in his power to protect her, heal her. He swallowed, writing it off as how he'd step in for Octavia if she were upset.

"Clarke, you haven't been answering my calls or texts," Finn was saying, and he took a step forward. Bellamy felt Clarke tense beside him, stepping back. Finn frowned, but his gaze hardened when her step back had made it all the more evident that they had been holding hands. "What are you doing with him? You said you hated Bellamy Blake." Finn shot Bellamy a dirty look. "Look, can we just talk, please? I just...I feel like I need to explain-"

"Finn!" She cut him off. "Where are we right now?" Finn swallowed, taking another step towards Clarke.

"Clarke, please, I really need to-"

"Are you still engaged to Raven?" Clarke asked him, and Finn's mouth snapped shut. Bellamy glanced between the two of them. "Are we not at your fucking engagement party?"

"Clarke," Finn tried again, but she held up her free hand.

"No, Finn. I'm not answering your calls or texts or anything, because you are with Raven. I can't...I can't go down that road again. Please _leave me alone_."

Bellamy looked back and forth between Clarke and Finn, and he squeezed her hand gently, pulling her closer to him, wanting to protect her from the pain she was obviously feeling. Yes, this is how he'd respond to Octavia if she'd been in a similar position. She leaned against his side, as if he alone was keeping her from falling over.

"Clarke, I _love_ you." Finn said pleadingly. "You have to believe me when I say that. I just...I need you to understand-" Bellamy saw a tear slip down her cheek, and it was then that he had enough of this bullshit.

"Well, tough shit, dude." He stepped in front of her, blocking her from his vision. "You need to back the fuck off."

"Bellamy," she began, but he ignored her.

"Who the fuck are you to tell me I need to back off? _You_ need to back off." Finn said, getting into his face. He felt her squeeze his hand in warning. "This is between Clarke and I. This is not any of your business."

"Except it is my business, because I'm with her." He stepped closer. He was only a few inches taller than Finn, but he took advantage of his height, trying to tower over him.

"Bellamy," Clarke released his hand to tug on his arm. "Look at me." He glanced down at her, and she shook her head. "There are people watching. It's not worth it." He tensed his jaw, nodding his head. "Let's go find your sister, okay?"

"Clarke, you're seriously going to leave with this asshole? What about us?" She glared at Finn.

"There is no us, Finn."

"Is this because of him? Are you _dating_ Bellamy Blake?" Finn asked in disgust. "He's only going to hurt you, Clarke. Look at his track record. He's not the right guy for you."

"And you are?" Clarke asked him, shaking her head. Bellamy noticed that she scratched at her right wrist, which seemed to be a nervous habit of hers. "It's none of your business whether or not I'm dating Bellamy, because you and I are not together anymore. You're getting married, Finn."

"He's no good for you," Finn said pleadingly. He stepped forward, but Bellamy stepped between them.

"Whether or not you think I'm good enough for her is of no matter. It's whether or not _she_ does is all that matters. Now if you'll excuse us, she and I have a date to get back to." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her away from Finn. They got as far as the bar, before he stopped them, leaning down to look her in the eyes. "You okay?" She nodded her head, but it was clear to him that she was still upset. He pulled her against his chest, and after a moment, she wound her arms around his middle, pressing her face into his neck.

"I don't know what to say…I'm mortified. I thought that I could-" Clarke said as she pulled out of Bellamy's arms. She sniffed, turning her face away to avoid his gaze. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

"I wanted to beat his fucking face in. It was clear that he hurt you, and he just kept at it. A real_ man_ doesn't do that to a person they claim to love." He let out a breath. "I'm always upfront and honest with the girls I date about how I'm not into relationships. I don't go out of my way to hurt anyone. He saw that you were hurting, and he just kept going. It was clear to me that he was more worried about relieving his own guilt and not being seen by you as the bad guy than about love."

"That's insightful of you, Dr. Blake," she said with a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. He rolled his eyes, pushing away from her completely.

"I just kept picturing some guy acting that way with Octavia, and I just...I wanted to end him." She stiffened, raising a hand to rub at the back of her neck.

"Right, well, it's over with now. You do realize that Finn now thinks that we're dating." Bellamy furrowed his brow. What the hell was Clarke going on about?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first of all, we were holding hands. Second of all, you said that because you were _with_ me, it was your business to get involved. Third of all, neither one of us ever denied that we were dating when Finn asked it. And, finally, you said that it only matters whether or not _I _thought you were good enough and that we needed to get back to our date. All of that is circumstantial, of course, but lumped together, it is the logical assumption. Finn's probably fuming that I'm seeing someone else now, and he's going to make a big stink to anyone who listens."

"Shit."

"We're also forgetting about the tons of people that are surrounding us at the moment and who were there when we were having that argument with Finn. I mean, he's one of the co-owners of _Spacewalk_. You are Bellamy Blake. People are going to talk."

"Okay, Princess, I get it. People are going to think that there is something going on more than a single date. I can fix this."

"How can you fix it? We were supposed to go out one time, Bellamy. How in the hell are we supposed to get out of this? Neither one of us exactly likes the other person. Sure, we've been tolerating each other's presence for tonight, but that doesn't mean that we actually like each other."

Hearing Clarke say those words was like getting punched in the junk about fifteen times, Bellamy thought to himself. He tensed his jaw.

"Dude, there you are!" The two of them turned their head towards the sound of his sister. "I've been looking for you. Did you know that people are going on and on about some fight between Bellamy Blake and one of the owners of Spacewalk? Something about a girl. Oh, hey, Clarke."

"Octavia," Bellamy began, but he hesitated, looking at Clarke.

"Bellamy and I ran into my ex-boyfriend, that's all." Clarke cleared her throat. "It's good seeing you again, Octavia."

"Your ex-boyfriend? Really?" Octavia grinned, looking scandalized. "You dated one of the dudes who owns _Spacewalk_. Badass. Nice. So, did you throw a punch or something?" She turned her attention back on Bellamy.

"No, I didn't, but now pretty boy Spacewalker thinks that she and I are dating. Now, we're stuck keeping up this charade." His eyes narrowed when he saw how excited his sister looked.

"Big deal. You guys go on a few more dates, then Kane releases a statement saying that you guys tried to make a go of it, but you decided that you're better off as friends. There, done. No one gets hurt." Octavia rolled her eyes. "Oh, by the way, Clarke, this is Lincoln, my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? He's hardly a boy, O." Bellamy snapped, glaring at Lincoln.

"Well, jeeze, Bellamy, I thought that you'd feel better about me calling him my boyfriend than my sexy lover." Bellamy literally snarled at his sister.

"Hey, calm down," Clarke said, stepping in front of him. He stared down at her, his jaw tense. "You don't want to make a scene," she reminded him. "Play nice. There are people watching." He swallowed, taking a step away from Lincoln and Octavia, and Clarke followed him, laying a hand on his arm. "Good."

"See, you guys got this fake relationship thing down perfectly." Octavia waved a hand at the two of them. "Anyways, how about one drink, a couple of selfies for social media about our cute double date moment, and then we go our separate ways."

"Can you handle one drink?" He nodded his head at Clarke, and she smiled at him. They had their one drink, and, true to her word, Octavia snapped a few selfies of the four of them, which he was sure was going to go viral soon enough.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy could tell that Clarke was still upset over what had happened with Raven and Finn, and she was tapping away on her phone, likely to Kate or Wells, about what happened. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Want me to take you home?" She turned her head, but he was still leaning close to her, so their faces were only about an inch apart. He could smell the moonshine and rum on her breath from her rum and Coke, the wine they'd had at dinner a distant memory. Up close, he saw her eyes were a green-blue color, with flecks of hazel in them, and the only marks on her skin were the three birthmarks on her skin-one above her lip, another on her cheek, and the third above her eyebrow. She was _beautiful_, and he swallowed, keeping himself from leaning forward to connect their lips. She was _Clarke Griffin_, for fuck's sake. She was the stuck-up princess from high school that he hated. She was the smart know-it-all that pissed him off to no end. He leaned back, and he saw something flash over her face before she looked away, grabbing her drink to finish it off.

"Let's go," she said, standing up, and he nodded, turning to his sister and Lincoln. Lincoln was chatting with someone on the other side of him at the bar, whereas his sister was watching him and Clarke with a contemplative look on her face.

"I'm gonna take Clarke home. You good?" He said with a nod to Octavia. She rolled her eyes, nodding. She climbed off of the seat, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Be wise, big brother." He pulled back, staring at her in confusion. What was she going on about? She just leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Love you." She pulled away from him to pull Clarke into a hug. He saw Clarke's eyes widen in shock, but she returned the hug. "It was good seeing you again, Clarke. We should go shopping or something. I'd love to see your art. I'm always looking for nice things for my apartment."

"Um, yeah, sure…I'd like that." Clarke said when she and Octavia broke free from each other. She blushed, looking at Bellamy in surprise. He just shrugged. He turned his attention to Lincoln Travers. He felt Clarke's hand on his arm, and he let out a deep breath before he held a hand out to the older man.

"Lincoln, take care of my sister, yeah?" Lincoln nodded his head, shaking hands with Bellamy, giving him a warm smile.

"She means the world to me, Bellamy. I'd protect her with my life." Bellamy could tell that the older man was telling the truth, but it was still a little weird for him to hear someone else say it about her. For as long as he could remember, he was the only one doing that for O, so it would take some getting used to if he had to share her with someone else. "Clarke, it was lovely to meet you. I look forward to seeing you again." He stepped forward, pressing a kiss to Clarke's cheek, and she smiled warmly at him. The second that she separated from him, Bellamy grabbed her hand, pulling her away from Octavia and Lincoln.

The two of them walked outside, flashes from cameras and phones momentarily blinding him from the dark contrast of the club, and he pulled her closer to him. She released his hand to wrap her arms around his upper arm, and he smiled down at her. She seemed unsure of herself around the cameras and people photographing them, so he just guided her toward where the valets were standing. They stood there, with her clutching his arm, and him whispering to her. "You okay?" He realized that this was becoming a habit for him, but he was honestly worried about her after the argument with Finn. She looked so broken, and she'd lost her bubbliness that she'd been sporting all evening until they had arrived at the club.

"I'm fine." She nodded her head, sniffing. He could see it in her face that she _wasn't_, and he could also see that she was slightly buzzed on the moonshine and rum. He shook his head, about to open his mouth to respond to her, but his car pulled up in front of him, and the valet got out. He opened the door for her, helping her into the car, and he hesitated in the doorway once she was seated, knowing people were snapping pictures of them. "Bellamy?" She asked him, confused, and he just leaned forward, brushing his lips over her cheek. He didn't know what came over him, and if he had less of a tolerance when it came to booze, he probably would've kissed her lips, but he still had enough sense to detour the kiss to her cheek. When he pulled back, she blushed, reaching up to brush her fingers over her cheek, a small smile on her lips.

Bellamy felt pretty pleased with himself, shutting the door and walking around the car to the driver's side. He climbed in, and, after he put the car in drive, he found Clarke's hand on his before he could move it to wheel. She interlaced their fingers, and he smiled at her, glancing over his shoulder before pulling into traffic. The drive was quiet until Taylor Swift's _I Knew You Were Trouble_ came on the radio. He grinned at her when she turned it up, singing along with the song under her breath. "You know this song is about me, right?" She turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed. "People like to believe that it's about Harry Styles before they started dating, but it's not. It's about me." She shook her head. "Don't believe me? You didn't see the reports of our brief romance a few years ago? The media went wild over our _romance_." She chuckled.

"I don't doubt that you dated her, nor do I doubt that you are the subject of this song." She grinned at him, biting her bottom lip. "You certainly are trouble." He winked at her.

"You have no idea, Princess." She rolled her eyes at him. "You wanna find out how much trouble I can be?" She pulled her hand from his, backhanding his chest lightly, but he caught her hand, raising it to his mouth to press a kiss there. It was in that moment that he did see the shiver go through her, and her cheeks became pinker. She looked away, staring out the window.

"What she doesn't know, though, is that you do love things." She said, referencing a portion of the song as it neared it's close. "You love your sister. You love your sister almost to the extreme-dude, let her breathe a bit." He lifted her hand to bite the back of it, making her squirm and him chuckle. "You love your job. I can see how passionate you are about your career and acting." She said, glancing at him. "I also remember how much of a nerd you were with history." He scoffed, squeezing her hand.

"I was never a _nerd_." She nodded her head, grinning at him.

"Yes, you were."

"If there was anyone that was a nerd, it was _you_." She laughed.

"Dude, I might have been valedictorian, but you were the one who had the perfect score in history. _Nerd_." He finally reached her apartment complex, and he lucked out with a parking spot in front of the building. He stopped the car, turning it off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black SUV park across the street, the window sliding down and a camera lens exiting it. "I had fun tonight, Bellamy. Surprisingly." He rolled his eyes at her.

"I'm a good time, Princess. You should see how fun I am in bed." She groaned, shaking her head.

"You're such a pig." She told him seriously, but he waved her off. She reached for the handle, but he reached across her, stilling her hand. She turned her head, and he realized how close he was to her.

"The paps are here. I should walk you inside." He whispered, not moving away from her. "I can't look like an asshole."

"But, you _are_ an asshole." She whispered back.

"Yeah, but then I'd be the asshole who can't get laid after a date." He said with an eye roll. She scoffed, pushing him away from her.

"So, I'm the tramp that gives it up after the first date? I don't think so."

"Clarke," she froze after she opened the door only an inch. It was the first time he'd used her real name. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Let me walk you to your door."

Clarke bit her bottom lip, and if she were anyone else, Bellamy would love to grab her by the back of her head and suck that bottom lip into his mouth, but she was Clarke Griffin. That wasn't happening. It couldn't happen. "Okay." She said with a head nod. The two of them climbed out of the car and walked into her building. The two of them waved at Jerry, who gave Bellamy a pointed look that seemed to indicate that he was just a phone call away if Clarke needed him.

They rode the elevator in silence. She jumped when the elevator dinged to indicate it had reached her floor. She slowly made her way down the hall, stopping at her door. He leaned against the wall beside it, watching as she hesitated in front of it. He cocked an eyebrow at her, as she played with her keys in her hands. "Generally, to go inside, you have to put your key in the lock, turn it, then turn the doorknob." She shot him an aggravated look. She unlocked her door, opening it wide. She moved into the doorway, freezing with her back to him. He had expected her to walk in, shut the door in his face, and never to hear from her again, but she turned around, chewing on her bottom lip.

"If I invite you inside, it does not mean that I'm asking you to sleep with me, okay?" He smirked at her, moving away from the wall by her door to cross his arms. "Oh, God! Forget it. You're such a pig."

"No, no, no! You don't want the night to end. I don't blame you. I am nice to look at. Plus, you're curious about what I'm like in bed. I get it. Just say the words, Princess."

"You're so disgusting." She snapped, slipping inside her apartment. She began to shut the door on him, but he stopped it before it shut with his hand. He gripped the door edge in his hand, leaning the other on the frame as towered over him.

"Wait, Clarke." She froze, her glare softening. He smiled down at her as he took a step forward. "Do you want me to stay?" She didn't say anything, just chewed on her bottom lip. He lowered his voice. "Ask me to stay…" She let out a breath.

"Bellamy, would you like to come inside?" He nodded his head, moving inside of the apartment, shutting the door behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: I rewrote this chapter and the last chapter several times. What's going on? Uggh! Can't seem to get the chapters to flow the way I want them to. This chapter is light on the humor and heavy on the angst. There is some mention of self-harming that might trigger some readers, but I hope that I can approach the topic with sensitivity. If anyone is thinking about self-harming, then please call 911 or go to the nearest crisis center near you.**

**To see the tattoo Clarke's wrist tattoo is inspired by, search out "semi-colon butterfly tattoo on wrist." It's the first tattoo image that comes up (usually). This tattoo is the combination of two movements or projects to end self-harming behaviors.**

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><p>Clarke led Bellamy into her apartment. At the start of the night, she wasn't expecting this to happen, but he'd been a surprisingly good time, and she wasn't sure that she wanted the night to end. It was for that reason that she invited him into her apartment. The rational part of her brain was telling her that she was stupid for doing so, because she should be in bed at this moment, because she had a lot to do the next morning to prepare for the holiday dinner. Instead, the irrational version of herself (who had a habit of coming out during the most inopportune times) had invited him inside, and now she was standing in the living area of her apartment, twisting her fingers as Bellamy Blake stood beside her, looking around.<p>

"Wow. I mean, I knew you were a good artist-the murals were fucking amazing-but I didn't realize your art paid for all of _this_." He stepped further into her apartment, and she suddenly felt self-conscious about her decision to put her bedroom area on the main floor near her living area and her studio in the loft. The white frothy bedding on her bed was suddenly seemed slutty rather than comfortable and relaxing. "This place is gorgeous. Did you paint that?" He pointed to the large painting of what she considered to be a celestial face that she painted after her dad had died. The large painting of the celestial face _above her bed_. She nodded her head, unable to trust her voice. "It's stunning. Is your studio upstairs? May I see it?" He headed in the direction of the stairs that led to the lofted space upstairs without waiting for her permission. She followed slowly behind him. When she finally reached the loft space, he was standing in front of the canvas with the bleeding tree. She still hadn't decided what she wanted to do with it, because she was sure she couldn't sell it. No one wanted a bleeding tree. "Wow."

"I...that was...it was supposed to be a tree, but I…" She didn't know what to say about it. She was embarrassed by the pain that leaked from it.

"It's beautiful." He said softly, glancing at her. "It's sad." He glanced at all of the paintings she had on the walls and leaning against easels in various states of completion. "They're all sad." She furrowed her brow, because she was always curious to hear what people's interpretations of her work were. Most of the time, people focused on the aesthetics of her art, rather than her motivation behind them. This was the first time that someone had really found the place where she was painting from. Most of her art was sad, because _she_ was sad. And angry. And broken. "They're all stunning, but heartbreaking." He ran his fingers over the dried red paint tainting the tree. "The tree is stoic, strong, invincible to the naked eye, but the red...it's like someone took an ax to it, cut it, and now it's bleeding. But, it's still standing." He said with a brittle smile. She swallowed, because he put into words exactly what she was feeling but could not seem to articulate when she painted it. Her left hand found her right wrist, digging beneath the bracelet to scratch her skin there, but she stopped herself, because he turned back to the painting and said something that took her by surprise. "How much?"

"Wha-" Her voice cracked, and she coughed, clearing before speaking again. "What?"

"How much for this painting? I'd like to buy it." He turned to face her, smiling at the shocked look on her face. "I've got a lot of greens and reds and browns in my house, so it would go with the rest of the 'decor,'" he said with an eye roll and finger quotes. "Octavia basically decorated my house, because I apparently have no interior design sense. Yeah, of course I don't, because I'm a fucking _dude_, but I let her decorate how she saw fit." He shrugged his shoulders. "She spends a lot of time there anyways, so it's whatever. So, how much, Princess?"

"You really want to buy it?" He looked at her like she was stupid, and she swallowed. "I just...I never...I didn't think I would be able to sell it, because it is so much darker than my usual stuff." She walked up to the painting, laying her right hand on the dried paint. "I painted it the day I found out about winning the contest." She felt him tense beside her. "_Before_ I found out that I won." She said, glancing his way before she turned her attention back to the . "I woke up, and my fingers were itching to paint. I felt so...I don't know how to describe it. I felt like there was something I needed to say, and I was so...I was _angry_. I started this tree, and it was so perfect and beautiful, but _I was angry_. It was like my brain shut down, and my hand went nuts. Thus, the red." She dropped her hand. "You can have it," she whispered. "I love this painting, even if people would write it off as being ugly and ruined. It should go to a home where someone understands it."

"Clarke," Clarke shook her head, refusing to look at Bellamy. She just got too personal with him. She turned away from him, but he grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him. They locked eyes, and she swallowed. This was too much. She didn't know what to make of this version of him. She understood the obnoxious jerk version, the overprotective brother to Octavia, and the charming, confident flirt. He'd shown her other sides of himself throughout the night, and she felt uncomfortable, because she didn't know how to respond to it, to _him_.

"So, there was a reason why I invited you inside." She said, breaking the moment. She smirked at him, dragging him out of her studio by the hand.

"To have your way with me-I know." She rolled her eyes as she drug him downstairs. She reached the downstairs, and she clicked off her shoes by her closet where she stored her dresses, fancy clothing, and shoes.

"Shut up. I've got to change first, though. Why don't you go get yourself a drink, okay? I've got beer, wine, juice, and water in the fridge, and there's also an open bottle of red on my counter, too." She said, pushing him away from her dressing area. "The glasses can be found in the cabinet above the counter by the fridge. I'll take a glass of red. Thanks." He glanced at her with his eyebrow cocked.

"Princess, you don't have to get into sexy lingerie. I'm sure what you have on is great, and I actually prefer to undress a woman, so you should really keep the dress on." She flipped him off. He winked, disappearing and heading towards her kitchen and dining areas.

Clarke dug through her dresser, grabbing a white tank top with black _Stanford_ lettering across the bust. She then grabbed a pair of black capris with white polka dots on them. She slid the bracelet off her wrist, hanging it on her jewelry tree, before making her way into the bathroom to change. Once she was dressed in the pajamas, she unwound the braids from the crown of her head. She exited the bathroom, loosening the strands from each other, knowing her hair was even curlier than usual because of the braids. She paused when she reached the kitchen area to find that Bellamy had lost his blazer, which was draped on the back of one of her chairs at the table. He had the bottle of wine on the counter in front of him, and he was stretching to pull two glasses from her cabinet. His t-shirt was pulled up, revealing a hint of his muscular side. From what she saw, his tanned skin was stretched taut over his slender frame. She closed her eyes for a moment before she stepped further into the dining area.

"Hey," she said with a smile. He glanced at her as he pulled the glasses down, his eyes running over her changed appearance. Once her hair was loose from the braids completely, she gathered it up, tying it into a loose bun at the back of her head, using the hair tie on her wrist to hold it in place.

"Hi, so what's with the outfit change?" She smiled at him walking over to the fridge.

"You saw the dough balls in the fridge, right?" He nodded his head. "Well, I made an apple and pumpkin pie this morning, and I would've finished making the blueberry and cherry pie, as well as the quinoa-mushroom-bean dish that I'm making for tomorrow, but I had to go on this _stupid_ date thing with this guy I sort of knew in high school." He laughed.

"Oh, wow! The poor guy! Wonder what he did in a past life to be forced to go out on a date with you." She stuck her tongue out at him, and he smirked at her. "Princess, you might want to put that tongue back in your mouth before I find something to keep it busy." Her jaw dropped open, because despite the light flirting all night _that_ was the most overt thing he'd said to her all evening. It was one thing for him to joke about them fooling around, but this was him basically implying that something could happen between them. Again, the irrational part of her brain was trying to take over, pushing the rational part of it to the darkest corners of her mind, but she fought the desire to pull her shirt over her head and to drop to her knees in front of him. _Shit_, that thought was embarrassing. She felt the blush fill her cheeks, and she glanced away. She heard his amused chuckle.

"Anyways, you can help me." She walked over to the oven, taking the glass from his hand as he held it up to her. She took a sip of the red liquid as she pressed the bake button on her oven. She listened to the beeps as she set the temperature.

"Help with what?"

"Baking." She said with a smile, and he shook his head.

"Um, hell no." She rolled her eyes and began digging through her cabinets to grab some quinoa flour that she'd used to prepare the pie crusts. She then went to the fridge and grabbed the dough balls. She unwrapped them, leaving them on plastic wrap.

"Wash your hands." She said, hitting his hip with her own. She started washing her hands at the sink, but he just watched her, arms crossed. She dried her hands and walked over to the flour, getting a few handfuls and tossing it onto the counter.

"You're making a mess," he complained as she giggled when she pulled one of the dough balls off its plastic wrap and dropped it onto the flour, some of it wafting off of the counter to coat her stomach in a cloud of white. She began kneading the dough.

"You know, you could use your muscles for something worthwhile?" She said cheekily as she kneaded the dough.

"Nah, I'm enjoying the show. Your boobs look awesome right now."

"You're such a pig." She rolled her eyes. When the chill was worked off the dough, she dusted flour over her rolling pin. She began rolling the dough out. "Can you grab the pie dishes for me? They're in the cabinet by your feet." He leaned down, grabbing the two pie dishes from the cabinet.

"Nice ink, by the way. Didn't realize you had some." She glanced down at her foot as she pressed the dough into the pie dish. She saw the words she had gotten tattooed to her skin after her first big sale. She added some additional flour to the counter before she responded.

"Yeah, I've got three."

"Seriously? You don't seem like the type." She started kneading the second dough ball she had unwrapped for the top of the pie.

"What type is that?"

"Tattoos are permanent, and I don't know...you seem like the type who'd make a speech about how impractical it is to get something permanently added to your skin."

"That's because you don't really know me, Bellamy." She said quietly.

"You're right, I _didn't_, but I'm starting to." He took a sip of his own wine, and she blushed. "Well, are you going to tell me about them. I'm sure that they all mean something, right?" She added some flour to the rolling pin, rolling out the second layer of dough. She then washed her hands before grabbing the pot that she'd left on her stove earlier.

"They do…" She chewed on her bottom lip. "The one on my foot was actually the most recent one I got. I've had it for two years now. I moved to L.A. with Wells, and I was feeling lost. I'd just graduated from med school, and I finally admitted to myself that I didn't want to be a doctor."

While she was talking, Clarke filled the pot with about three inches of water before putting it on the stove to start boiling. She went into the fridge and pulled out two jars, one full of cherry pie filling and one with blueberry, which she had made earlier in the day. She set them onto the counter beside the oven. When she was finished, she moved to the table, sitting on the top of it rather than in a chair, better able to see the water in the pot for when it was boiled.

Bellamy, meanwhile, had moved to sit down in the chair at the table beside her. He grabbed her foot, making her squirm as he thumb traced over the black lowercase lettering on her left foot. "'Art is to console those who are broken by life.'" He read quietly. "You think you're broken?" He released her foot, looking up at her, and she shrugged her shoulders. "I think that you're brave for deciding to go after what you want instead of taking the easy and expected route-medicine."

"It's a quote by van Gogh." She licked her bottom lip, brushing the flour from the front of her shirt and lap. "It would make more sense if you knew what my other tattoos were of, but I definitely consider myself to be broken and lost, even now."

"How are you broken?" His voice was soft, and she shook her head.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." She pointed at the inside of his right wrist. "What about you? You've got your own ink."

"It's an infinity symbol." He shrugged his shoulders as he laid his hand on her knee, letting her see the ink on his skin. "I got it when I first moved to L.A., so five years ago? I think it was spur of the moment, I'm a little buzzed on the excitement of making the decision to move me and O across the country and on some vodka, and I got the most generic thing that I could think of." He chuckled, turning his hand over so that she could feel the heat of his palm on her knee. "Now, I like to think of it as being meaningful, though. It's a reminder for myself that I should live with passion and integrity, that I should never go half-assed in anything I do, because I want to be remembered for as long as I can be and as being someone who lived life to the fullest." She smiled at him.

"I admire that."

"It's your turn. Tell me more about your tattoos." The water started bubbling, so she hopped off of the table and walked over to open both the jars. She then set them inside the pot of water, warming both the fillings once again so that the sauces thickened once again.

Clarke then turned to face Bellamy, leaning against the fridge. "The first tattoo I got was four years ago. It was when I was in my third year of med school. I was under so much stress, but I'd chosen medicine, because I wanted to impress my parents. My mom was a doctor, and my dad was an engineer, and I just...I wanted them to be proud of me. I wanted my dad to keep bragging to his friends about how smart and wonderful his daughter was to everyone he met-how I was going to be a doctor and save people's lives." She brushed at the tear that slipped down her cheek. "I kept it a secret how much I _hated_ med school. Don't get me wrong-I love science, and I loved the idea of helping people, but my heart wasn't in it."

She gathered the hem of her shirt in her hands, pulling it up so that the material was bunched up beneath her breasts in her right hand, revealing the ink that she had permanently etched into her left side. She had gotten Banksy's _Girl with a Red Balloon_ street art tattooed onto her side, but rather than pairing it with the 'there's always hope' that traditionally went with it, she'd added her own quote in cursive. The black image of the girl was reaching towards the balloon and the quote that separated them, positioned in the lower left corner. In the center, she'd had two sentences, a quote from Mitch Albom, her dad's favorite author. The top line was "I love you every day," with the second half of the quote beneath it, "And now I will miss you every day." In the upper right corner, she had the red heart-shaped balloon with _Dad_ tattooed in the center in black.

"I got this tattoo impulsively, because my dad died. He and my mom got in a car accident. She was driving. I know I shouldn't have blamed her. It could've been my mom who died, with my dad driving, but he'd forgotten his glasses, and he can't-_couldn't_-drive at night without them. Some drunk driver blew through a red light, slammed into the passenger side of the car, and my dad was killed on impact. I had a nervous breakdown, and I impulsively went out and got this tattoo. My dad loved Mitch Albom, and the quote was just how I was feeling, and I love Banksy, so the girl reaching for a balloon that was flying away? I don't know. It just made sense to me. So, I got it. And, I got drunk, and I cried, and I screamed, and I failed a test." She laughed self-deprecatingly. "I don't fail tests. The professor was understanding. Let me do a makeup exam and a extra credit paper, and I should've quit then and there, but I felt like I would've let my dad down if I didn't become a doctor, for him. I didn't get to say goodbye, so my way of honoring him was to get this tattoo and to finish med school."

"Clarke," she shook her head, dropping her shirt and turning around. She shut the water off, sliding her hand into an oven mitt. She slid it onto her hand and reached for one of the jars, pulling it from the boiling water. She set it onto the table and grabbed a spoon, stirring the liquid in the jar. She mixed it to make sure it was combined and that the filling was thickened. She then picked up the jar and poured it into the pie dish. When it was emptied, she set the empty jar into the sink and put a few scoops of vegan butter on top of the filling and covered the pie with the other layer of dough. She set the dish aside, reaching for the flour to dump some more onto the counter to roll out the remaining dough.

"I'm sorry about your dad." She froze when she felt his hands on either side of her hips. "I've been there, you know? Losing a parent when you're young-it's...it's the worst thing in the world." She sniffed, taking a step back to let her back rest against his chest. He leaned down to press a kiss to her shoulder, and she let her eyes fall shut. That irrational part of her mind was coming to the surface again. She knew that she could turn around, kiss him, cross that line in order to stop talking about such negative memories. She pushed the irrational thoughts aside and grabbed some flour to dust over the rolling pin, and she began to roll another dough ball out. It rolled easily due to losing the chill from the fridge while they had talked.

He kept his hands on her waist as she worked. At one point he raised his right hand to lay it on her right arm, sliding it down the skin slowly with a feather-light pressure. She felt the goosebumps erupt onto her skin, and she shivered. He stilled her hand after she pressed the dough into the pie tin. "Your other tattoo is on your wrist, too." He settled his hand over her wrist stroking his thumb over the inside of her wrist. She froze, and she heard his muffled curse in her ear. "What the hell is this?" He turned her hand over, pressing the back of it into the counter to run his thumb over her wrist again. There was single raised scar on her wrist, surrounded by the tattoo she'd gotten about six months after the tattoo on her side. The scar was set right in the center of her wrist.

The tattoo was of a butterfly, and the loops of it's wings fell on either side of the scar, and the butterfly's body was made up a semi-colon, the period falling above the scar, and the comma falling beneath it. She stared at the path his thumb took as it traced back and forth over the scar. "When my dad died, I had known Finn for three years, but had only been dating him for two." She whispered, and she knew that he heard her, because his thumb stilled. "He had attended Stanford for his master's degree; he was getting an engineering degree in the aero/astro program. We met the day that Wells and I moved into the apartment complex near campus that the grad students lived in. We became good friends quickly.

"He told me all about his sweet girlfriend back home in Houston, whom was waiting on him. They'd dated from the time they were fifteen until Finn gotten into Stanford. The plan was that he'd go to Stanford, complete his master's, come back to Houston, and be an astronaut. They were going to get married and have babies and live happily ever after. He told me all this. He told me that they'd broken up because of the distance, but they both knew that they'd go back to each other when he was done his master's. The engineering degree in the aero/astro program was really difficult. It typically took three to four years, so that was a long time for them to be apart."

"What does that have to do with the scar on your wrist? Did _he_ do this?"

"Can I finish my story?" She said, turning slightly to look at him. Their faces were close, and they locked eyes. "It turns out that it was all a lie. He did an amazing job laying the groundwork, Bellamy. He waited an entire year before he kissed me. He told me that night that even though it hurt to say goodbye to his life with Raven, he had fallen in love with me. He said that I was the girl that he wanted to spend his life with, not Raven. But, it turns out, I wasn't the _only_ _one_ he was having drunken moonbounce sex with." She stepped away from him, grabbing the other jar, mixing it before dumping it into the pie crust.

"He's an asshole." Bellamy said, and Clarke nodded her head in agreement. "How did you find out?"

"She came to visit him. She showed up, and he and I were supposed to have a date. He texted me that he'd gotten sick and needed to bail. I made him soup, and I brought it to his apartment. He didn't answer the door, but Raven did. She was so sweet-she didn't know about me. I didn't know about her-at least not that she was still his girlfriend. I freaked out, and she was heartbroken to find out that he'd cheated on the both of us."

"Then, why is she marrying him?" He asked her, confused.

"He was her family since she was fifteen, Bellamy. Her mom was a drunk; her dad bailed as a kid. They were poor. All of the money that they'd get from public assistance and welfare fed her mom's alcoholism. Raven lived on the street, ate out of dumpsters-all of that. Finn and his family-they took her in. Let her stay with them even after her and Finn started dating. She found it in her heart to forgive him. I couldn't."

"I don't blame you."

"It was six months after my dad died. I hated med school, I lost my dad, and then my boyfriend of two and a half years had lied to me and made me the other woman. It all got to be too much, so when I got drunk one night, I took a blade to my wrist. I just...I don't know what came over me. I just felt so out of control, and I hated my life. Since Wells and I had a two bedroom, he found me in the bathroom. He freaked out, stopped the bleeding, got me to the doctor on campus to see if I needed stitches." She wiped at a tear. "I was fine. It was superficial-it left a nasty scar, but it wasn't deep enough to cause damage. I could have told him that. I was studying to be a doctor, after all. I hated that I got so low, so I started going to a grief therapist to deal with my dad's death and Finn's betrayal. The grief therapist encouraged me to start painting again." She reached for the final dough ball, rolling it out quickly, completing the final pie.

"Is that why you didn't try to find a residency at a hospital? You went with art instead?" She nodded her head.

"My mother wasn't pleased, of course. She and I haven't really had too much contact in the last two years." After she painted almond milk and vegan butter over the surfaces of the pies, she put them in the oven. "I looked into self-harm online. The semi-colon project talks about how the use of a semi-colon in place of a period to keep a sentence that could have ended going. It's paired with the idea of self-harming and suicide attempts. Like, the semi-colon is supposed to represent the continuation of life, whereas a period is to symbolize the end of it. The butterfly is also another project in which people were encouraged to draw a butterfly on the spot they usually self-harm, and if the person self-harms near it, the butterfly will die or whatever. That project is a little darker, but I liked the idea of combining them. The butterfly and semi-colon together is a reminder to myself that there was a time when I felt so low that I decided to cut myself to see if that could relieve the negativity I was feeling. I don't want to go back to that place, and I regularly see a therapist to help me from getting to that place again. My art is my job, but it is also my way of releasing the tension and negativity within me."

"But you still have an itch that you need to scratch sometimes." She cocked her head to the side before nodding. He had noticed her scratching at her wrist, as well as Kate and Wells' concern over her during times of stress and anxiety.

"I'm just going to bake these. You don't have to stay."

"Princess," he shook his head. "If you'd like me to stay, then I'll stay." She chewed on her bottom lip before nodding.


	7. Chapter 7

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: I really am sorry about all of the angst in the last chapter. I hope that I approached it in a delicate way. Clarke is skittish about relationships and letting people in, just as Bellamy is.**

**Also, because FF is sometimes irritating about symbols and such in the docs, for future tweets, emails, text messages, et cetera that I'll include in this story, I'm going to put things in parentheses like (heart emoji) or (hashtag). Bare with me, okay?**

* * *

><p>Clarke yawned when her phone started ringing at nine in the morning. She groaned, because her eyes were burning from tiredness and her head was swimming from the hangover. Fuck, how much had she and Bellamy drank the night before? They'd had wine at dinner, and then at the club, they'd both had moonshine. Then, the rum and cokes with Octavia and Lincoln. Then, wine again here. She was stupid to mix the types of booze, because now she felt like there was a marching band warming up inside of her head.<p>

She and Bellamy had arrived in her apartment a little after one in the morning the night before, and then he had stayed until about four. She had baked the remaining pies, and he had helped her cut vegetables and fruit that she'd be laying out for people to munch on before dinner. He'd also helped her prepare her quinoa-mushroom-black bean dish. When they weren't working on the food, they were drinking and talking about nostalgic moments from high school-teachers they mutually hated, people they dated, friendships that they'd lost. By the time he'd left, she'd passed out in bed after brushing her teeth and washing her face.

"Kate, what's up?" Clarke yawned again, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes.

"Did you get any of my texts last night after you left?" Kate's voice was frantic, making Clarke wince at the volume and at the tone.

"No, I just saw that you texted, but since you were calling, I just answered that. What's wrong?"

"Okay, so last night, after you left, Finn and Raven showed up to the engagement party about fifteen minutes later. Finn was fuming, and after you and I were texting each other about the showdown between the three of you, I could definitely tell that he was thinking that you and Bellamy were more serious than just going on the date for the sake of the contest." Clarke yawned again, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Anyways, Raven said she was bummed that she missed seeing you, and she wanted me to pass on her congratulations about the show this weekend, so I said I would tell you when I saw you at your place for Thanksgiving. Then, Finn was like, 'Clarke's hosting Thanksgiving?' So, long story short, he basically invited himself and Raven to dinner tomorrow, and Raven was all excited, because she and him were planning on eating baked potatoes and bake a tofurky in the oven, but now she'll bring the tofurky to dinner. I couldn't say _no_, you know? He might be a fucking asshole, but she's too sweet."

"I know. I really like her. I hate him, but I like her."

"Exactly, so Finn was also like, 'Is Bellamy going to be there,' and I didn't know what to say, so I said that I didn't know. Then, Raven brought up the fact that she saw that you won the contest, and, of course, Finn got that shit-eating grin that he gets when he realizes that he's getting his way, so I kinda maybe sorta told him that Octavia rigged the contest, because you two knew each other in high school, and I kinda maybe sorta implied that you're dating."

"KATE!?" She winced at her her own shrill voice. Fuck, she was in a lot of pain. Thank goodness she wasn't puking.

"I don't know! I panicked. I didn't want Finn to think that he can waltz right back into your life and make a mess of it again." Clarke swallowed, because not too long after he'd proposed to Raven, Finn had started calling and texting her. She didn't know why, because it wasn't fair to Raven or herself.

"Shit."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just...Wells and I will be over at eleven with the turkey. Everyone is set to arrive around noon, right? We should probably get it in the oven around then so that dinner can start at around four-thirty. We can figure something out then. Like, how to explain Bellamy's absence or whatever."

"No, I'll take care of it. Bye, Kate." She hung up the phone and stood up, walking over to her dresser. She winced when she looked in the mirror at her tired, anxious face. She couldn't let Finn win, and the irrational part of her brain took over. She grabbed her phone once more and scrolled through the contacts until she got to Bellamy's name. She called him without taking a second to think it through, because for once, she didn't want her rational side to talk her irrational side out of it.

"What in the actual fuck, Princess, could you possibly want this early in the morning? I didn't get home until close to five this morning." He groaned. "Please tell me you're as hungover as I am. What the fuck is in that moonshine shit? I feel like I ate steel wool." She chuckled but winced.

"Stop making me laugh. I feel like shit."

"Good. I'm hanging up now."

"No, wait. There is a reason I called." She paused, and she heard his breathing on the other end. "Are you falling asleep? Bell, wake up!

"My bed is so warm and comfy though." He whined, and she smiled, not being able to control the thought that he sounded cute when he was tired. Her mouth went dry, and she closed her eyes, regaining her breath.

"I know. Mine is, too."

"Is that an invitation, Princess?" She rolled her eyes.

"No, but I was wondering what you're up today…" He yawned into the phone, setting off a yawn of her own.

"Octavia and Lincoln are coming over later, and O and I are going to show him our tradition of eating Eggo waffles and scrambled eggs in our pajamas on the couch. Why?" She smiled at their cute tradition that he and his sister had, but then she frowned, because their tradition came out of necessity. Their mom died when they were young-with Bellamy having to support his baby sister whom he was only five years older than when he was barely twenty-one years old.

"Well, so, I was wondering if maybe you-and Octavia and Lincoln, too, of course-would like to come to Thanksgiving dinner at my apartment today." She said quickly, chewing on her bottom lip. He was silent for a little while, and she was curious if he fell back to sleep. "Bellamy?"

"I'm here...I'm just...why?"

"Finn invited himself and Raven to come to Thanksgiving last night, and Kate may or may not have confirmed his fear that we're dating." She said it all in one breath, rather quickly, and she sucked in some air after she was finished. It was eerily silent on the other line, and she couldn't take the waiting to hear his reaction. "Bellamy?"

"I fucking hate your friend." He sighed.

"Seriously, your tradition with your sister sounds wonderful, and I honestly wish I had a tradition like that with a sibling, so I'm kind of jealous of you in that regard, but you know that I'll have enough food to feed an army. Wells and Kate are going to arrive at about eleven to get the turkey in the oven in time for dinner at about four-thirty or five. Monty is going to bring the stuffing and green bean casserole, all of which I _can't_ eat, hence the quinoa dish. I've got a ton of potatoes peeled and diced, ready to be made into vegan mashed potatoes. I also have broccoli, green beans for those who don't like the casserole, peas, and corn. Oh, and you already know about the fruit and veggies for the appetizers. Plus, I bought a couple of those cheese and meat combo platters, and I have a ton of crackers and chips and condiments, including hummus. And, _pies_, which I will be making some awesome vegan whipped cream with coconut milk. And more booze!" She winced at her dry mouth, blinking as she began going through her drawers and armoire for an outfit for the day.

"Princess..."

"Seriously. Please. I didn't bail on you for this date. The least you can do is pretend that we're dating for today." She heard him sigh into the phone. "How about you come _here_ and watch the parade and the game and eat good food-oh, and the turkey." She felt so stupid for begging him. "Bellamy, I need you to do this one thing for me, okay?"

"Okay," he said quietly. "Princess, you owe me big time. What time do you need us?"

"Tell your sister and Lincoln to get here around noon or so." She chewed on her bottom lip. "Could you get here earlier than that? Like, ten-thirty to elevenish? We need to figure out a story, and we can text Octavia everything before she gets here, and explain it to Wells and Kate when they get here with the turkey."

"Shit, that means I have to get up now, tell O, and get ready in order to get to your apartment at the time you requested."

"I make a really good cup of coffee."

"This coffee better be made with ambrosia from the Gods."

"I make even better French toast…" She smiled when she heard him grunt.

"You owe me big, Princess."

"Yes, I do. Massively. We can talk about that when you get here. I promise I will more than make up for you doing me this massive favor."

"I demand lots and lots of sexual favors."

"Goodbye, Bellamy!" She said sharply, hanging up on him as his chuckle flowed through the phone.

* * *

><p>At ten-thirty-five in the morning, Bellamy found himself parked outside of Clarke's apartment complex, yawning. He had his biggest, darkest pair of sunglasses on, and his hair was sticking up in all different directions from his haphazard towel-rubbing following his shower. He'd dressed in a pair of khakis (she owed him massively, because he was wearing fucking <em>khakis<em>), a light blue button down that he didn't button all of the way, revealing his white undershirt beneath it. He had a pair of brown shoes on his feet, and his favorite watch on his wrist. His head was killing him, and he barely had time to make himself a mug of his favorite coffee in his Keurig before he had to brave the ridiculous holiday traffic in one of the already worst trafficked cities in the United States. The whole time, his car was yelling at him as it read off text messages from Kane about the social media buzz from the date the night before. Apparently, a lot of his fans started following Clarke on twitter, deciding that she was "totes adorbs" and they were all "way jelly" over her cuteness or shit like that. He didn't exactly speak teen girl, but he thought that was high praise. Oh, and there were some people equating them to Barbie and Ken-which, honestly? Barbie and Ken? There were some "Negative Nancys," as Kane liked to call them, that slammed Clarke for looking like she was _too nice_, and that she was probably an actress, and this was all probably a publicity stunt, and she was going to be in his next movie or whatever. Overall, though, the buzz was positive, which the studio liked, so his job was safe _for now_.

He made his way inside of the building. It was daytime, without a security guard sitting there, monitoring the comings and goings of the residents or their guests. He got into the elevator, leaning his head back against the metal, with his eyes closed. It dinged, letting him know that he'd arrived on her floor. He walked to her door and raised his fist to knock on it. A few moments after his knock, the door flew open.

Bellamy took in the appearance of Clarke. Her blonde hair was straightened, with part of it pulled back from her face, but the rest loose and dangling around her shoulders. It was much longer than he realized, but he figured that was because of it being normally curly. She opted for light makeup, a bit of white on her eyelids, winged black eyeliner coming away from the corners, light pink blush, and rosy lips that looked all too inviting to kiss. Shit, snap out of it, Blake, he thought to himself. She had teardrop pearl earrings and a matching necklace with a single teardrop pearl. His eyes traced down her frame to the strapless white thing that basically looked like it was a lace bra and a high-waisted mint green skirt that revealed just a hint of her belly button. Also visible was the center portion of the tattoo on her side. The skirt fell about halfway down her thighs, made of some type of loose flowy material. On her feet were a pair of gray booties. In her hands was a mug of coffee that truly smelled heavenly, if a little sweet yet spicy. "Um, Princess, I think you forgot something?"

She glanced down at herself, frowning. "What?"

"A shirt?" She grinned as she looked up at him.

"I'm wearing a top. It's a strapless crop bustier." She said with a shake of her head and an eye roll.

"It looks like a lace bra-it barely covers your boobs. Hell, I can see your skin through the lace _under your boobs_. The only thing that is covered are basically your nipples."

"Are you really complaining about my choice of a top?"

"If you'd worn it last night on our date, no, but considering I have to play the role of the loving boyfriend today in front of your asshole ex and his fiancee, I think that you should probably change." She rolled her eyes at him again.

"I'm going to wear a sweater over it, idiot. I got warm while I was cooking _you_ breakfast." She held her hands out, presenting him with the coffee. "I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee, so I made it how I like it. It's this really _amazing_ organic dark roast that I mixed a small amount of almond milk into it as a creamer. Oh, and I also added a teaspoon of dark chocolate, a splash of vanilla, and a hint of cinnamon." She smiled at him as he took the mug from her hands and raised it to his lips.

His eyes drifted shut, and he sighed in pleasure at the coffee. It was a little sweeter than how he usually liked his coffee, but he was hungover and tired as hell, so he'd take what he could get. And, maybe it didn't taste _that bad_. "Are you gonna let me in, Princess?"

"Oh, right, of course." She moved out of the way, letting him into her apartment. "C'mon. I'm starving." She walked towards the kitchen area of her apartment, and he followed, his gaze immediately finding her ass. It was such a nice ass, too. She presented him with a plate full of French toast. "It's vegan." He scrunched up his nose, staring down at the bread, trying to figure out how the hell she made it vegan. "Oh, would you just try it?" She sighed, grabbing a plate for herself. She dumped some strawberries and blueberries on her plate, pouring some maple syrup on top of it.

She moved to the table, dropping down onto a chair, grabbing a fork. She smiled as she sipped from her own mug of coffee, and then slided through the bread with a fork. She popped a bite into her mouth, sighing, her eyes closed as she relaxed into the chair. He just watched her, not realizing that her eating a fucking bite of French toast was turning him on. He shook his head, smirking at her, adding his own fruit and maple syrup to the plate, before he dropped into the chair beside her. He pushed his fork into the bread, cutting off a piece of it before raising it to his lips. She opened her eyes, watching him as she popped a strawberry into her mouth. He rolled his eyes, eating the bite. Okay, it was pretty fucking good. She watched him, waiting for his response. "Okay, it's pretty good." She grinned.

"Of course it is!" She told him. "Happy Thanksgiving, Bellamy."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Clarke." They ate in a companionable silence, nothing but the sound of scrapes of forks on plates, an occasional happy sigh from her, and their coffee mugs hitting the table could be heard in her apartment. They finished off their breakfasts, and he glanced over to see that there was a small smudge of maple syrup on her cheek. "You've got some syrup," he said, reaching out to wipe the syrup away using his thumb. Out of habit, he raised his thumb to his mouth, sucking the syrup off. She locked eyes with him, and he found himself shifting closer to her.

"Bellamy," Clarke whispered when Bellamy's hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in the loose strands of her hair at the base of her skull.

"We should probably just get that first kiss thing out of the way…" He was saying as he moved closer to her until their noses began brushing. "You know, for the sake of acting like we're a couple." Her eyes lashes fluttered shut.

"Right, yeah, that's probably a good-" She didn't even get to finish the sentence, because his lips met hers, and he felt her sigh against his lips. He couldn't believe that he was kissing her, because he totally _hated _her in high school, but she was right (which he hated even more than he hated her). He didn't know her then, and all of the assumptions he had about her now had been blown up as he spent more and more time with her. She was beautiful, funny, and entirely too kind, and he knew that he was no good for her. At the same time, though, he couldn't stop himself from kissing her moments before. Sure, he used the ruse of them faking something for Finn (and he was definitely going to use her sweet image to help him with his career), but he wanted to kiss her, to hear her breathy sighs and quiet hums of pleasure at the gentle, yet firm pressure of his lips against hers. So far, the kiss was chaste, though, with neither one of them opening their mouths. Well, _fuck that._

He felt the tension in her body as he used his teeth to gently suck her bottom lip into his mouth. He nibbled on it slightly before soothing the bites with his tongue brushed across her bottom lip. She moaned softly into the kiss, and suddenly, he found her pressed against his front, opening her mouth to his. He took advantage of her open mouth to tangle his tongue with hers. Her hands found his shoulders, while his other slid to her waist, pulling her even further from her own chair and into his lap.

"Knock, knock!" Kate's voice carried through the apartment as the door to the apartment flung open. Clarke pulled back, and Bellamy sighed, running a hand through his hair. So, maybe he'd gotten a little carried away and taken the kiss too far, but he had his tongue in a pretty girl's mouth who was basically wearing a glorified bra as a shirt. She jumped up, gathering their plates and moving to the sink to begin washing them. He watched her anxious movement, taking comfort in knowing that she was equally as flustered as he was. He wanted to press her against the counter, beside the sink, and kiss her again-hell, he wanted to _fuck _her against that counter. But, she was Clarke, and he _couldn't_ do that.

"Hey, we're in here." She called out to Kate.

"We?" Kate said as she and Wells came further into the apartment. Bellamy stood up, going over to grab the turkey from Kate's arms. Wells limped behind her, and he shot Bellamy a grateful, but slightly embarrassed (and, possibly, jealous) look as Bellamy carried the heavy turkey to the kitchen table. Bellamy grabbed his mug, finishing off the coffee. "Hi, Bellamy." Kate said as she sat down at the table, her arms crossed. "Didn't realize you'd be here." The redhead looked pointedly at Clarke. "Clarke, you didn't tell me that Bellamy was going to be here."

"I said that I would take care of it, Kate." Clarke turned around, reaching for the mug in Bellamy's hands, not meeting his eyes. Well, shit if that wasn't obvious that they were in the middle of doing something shady. How in the hell were they going to pull off a fake relationship for the day if she was going to be jumpy and avoid his eyes every time they faked a kiss or a touch? She turned back to the sink again, washing both of their mugs.

"Yeah, well, Clarke mentioned that Finn invited himself to the festivities today, so I'm here being a good boyfriend for Clarke. Right, snookies?"

"Oh, dear God." She muttered, turning around from the sink to flip him off. "You're such an asshole Bellamy."

"But I'm _your_ cute, adorable, sexy as all hell asshole." She rolled her eyes.

"So, what the hell is going on?" Kate asked, an eyebrow cocked.

"Bellamy agreed to keep up the charade for Finn today to help me out, because I went on the date with him last night to help him out." Bellamy grinned at Clarke as she dried off her arms and reached for the gray cardigan sweater that was hanging off of the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

"Oh, sugar plum," she shot him a glare, receiving a smirk back from him, as he leaned against the counter where he'd fantasized about fucking her moments before, arms crossed. "You know how I said you'd owe me majorly for doing this favor for you today? It's time to pay up."

"How so?" She asked, wrapping the sweater around her frame (if she was fucking cold, then why the hell wasn't she wearing real clothing?).

"Well, a little birdy told me that most of my fans are 'totes jelly' at how 'adorbs' you are, and they're all for our real life Barbie and Ken thing." Her eyes widened in surprise, and he chuckled at the snort coming from both Kate and Wells.

"A little birdy-Kane, I'm assuming?" Kate sighed from her table.

"Yes, and he also told me that the studio bigwigs are pretty happy about our little foursome bonding moment last night with Lincoln and O."

"Get to the point, Bellamy," Clarke snapped, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes when he realized that the pink stain on her lips was slightly smudged. He discreetly wiped at his mouth with his hand, feigning clearing his throat, cursing internally at the light pink smear that came away on his hand. He hoped like hell that Kate or Wells didn't notice that.

"The point is, Clarke, that my reputation got a boost from being associated with a goody-two-shoes like yourself, so I'll help you out today if you'll help me out by doing what O suggested we do last night." She furrowed her brow. "A few more highly publicized dates, and then a press release from Kane saying that we've decided that we're better off as friends."

"But I don't even like you as a friend…" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Bite me."

"Where?" She said with a teasing smile. He was fucked. He was royally fucked. Also, he wanted to _fuck_ her.

"Dude, guys...turn it off for like five seconds." Kate complained with a sigh. "Seriously, Wells, is it hot in here of just me?"

"Shut up, Kate!" Clarke snapped. Bellamy's phone chirped, indicating that he had a new message. He opened the phone and saw a link from Kane to a gossip website.

"Well, shit…" They all looked at him. "It looks like it is out that you and I went to high school together. And, damn, we _did_ kiss at Tucker's party."

"Wait, what?" She crowded around his shoulder, and he could smell the fruit and maple syrup on her breath. He showed her a picture of a crappy picture of two kids out in the backyard of Tucker Bishop's party. In the background, there was an enclosed porch, and through the glass windows of the enclosed porch, what could be seen was two people, one with dark hair and one with light, in a passionate embrace. "We do look good together, Princess." She rolled her eyes as he scrolled down, with a zoomed in shot of the two of them from high school, their lips pressed against the other's.

"Okay, so according to this bullshit rag, a 'source' from high school says that we were secretly together in high school and that our public fighting was some kind of foreplay." He started chuckling then, groaning and batting at her hand when she pinched the back of his neck. He let her leave her hand resting on his shoulder though, so that her arm was draped around his neck as she read off his phone. "We do like fighting, Princess."

"Shut up, Bellamy. I can't believe this asshole 'source!' I had a boyfriend in high school after that party, and now it makes me look like some cheating whore."

"Please, no one would believe you're a cheating whore." He then squeezed his lips together, because that was exactly what Finn made her. She let out a breath. "Sorry...um, anyways, yeah, so people are crying bullshit on the contest with you winning…"

"Bullshit how? You and I haven't seen each other in a decade. Sure, we both live in L.A. now, but its a big city."

"Well, the speculation, according to Kane," Bellamy said as he opened the next text message from his agent, "is that we reconnected and started hooking up, and because my career is in danger due to all of the Lincoln Travers drama on set and the DUIs and that fight I got into with that dude that mysteriously became a not a big deal, which everyone now assumes is related to me paying the dude off, which I did, but you don't fuck with my sister-"

"Bellamy!"

"Right, sorry."

"Okay, so they think that the contest was a publicity stunt to make it look like you're going to be sweet with one of your fans?"

"And as a tool to show off a good relationship with Lincoln." He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Apparently, we were suddenly too friendly last night, taking selfies with my sister on her date. Kane's even saying that they believe that O dating Lincoln is actually a fake relationship to make it look like I'm okay with him, because I'd never let my sister date a guy who I've got shit with."

"It's funny how it's the other way around…" Clarke groaned, standing up. She dug her nails into his shoulder, and he grimaced, reaching up to detach her hand from him. He raised his arm, still holding her hand, to shift her arm around his body so that both their arms fell comfortably by their sides. She sighed, leaning against his side as she looked to Kate. "What the hell do we do then? Is this going to hurt both of our careers?"

"As of right now, no one knows that you're CEG, the artist." Kate said, doing her own recon on her phone.

"Kane suggests that we get ahead of this. He wants to release a statement that you and I went out for just one night, and it was a coincidence that your name got picked from all of the other names, and that it was your friend who pranked you by entering. He doesn't want to fuel anymore romance rumors."

"So, you being here, today, with me, on Thanksgiving? That's probably going to hurt your career, but help me out with Finn." She moved away from him, wrapping her sweater around her frame as she sat down in her own chair again. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I told you that I'd help you out."

"Yeah, but you also told me that you wanted me to go on a few fake dates with you to help your career, but that's not going to do anything but hurt it. So, even though things with Finn will be uncomfortable today, I think you should go. I said it before, I won't be the reason for why your career takes a nosedive."

"Hey, bitches!" Octavia's voice made them all jump, and they looked to the door to see Octavia coming in with Lincoln. "I know we're nearly an hour early, but I'm _starved_. And hungover." She winked as Lincoln shut the door behind them. "What's with all of the sour pusses?"

"You, Lincoln, and Bellamy need to get out of here now." Clarke said, jumping up. "I can get you guys some food together. I'm sorry that I don't have any turkey ready, but I've got a lot of fruit and vegetables."

"Clarke," Bellamy stopped her. "I'm not leaving."

"What's going on?"

"Some asshole that went to high school with Bellamy and Clarke are trying to say that this is all a publicity stunt, and that you and Lincoln are fake dating to make it look like there's no drama between the two guys on set. Oh, and that Bellamy's career is going to go down the crapper." Kate said with a sigh. "Oh, right, this is my boyfriend, Wells."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Lincoln." Lincoln walked over to shake hands with Wells, who gave him a tight smile.

"So, basically everything we were trying to avoid happening to Bellamy is actually happening because Kane pushed this stupid competition onto him, and then I went and rigged it so that Clarke could win." Octavia said, ignoring Wells all together. "So, I probably shouldn't have tweeted that Linc and I were on our way to Clarke's apartment for the holiday with Bellamy?" She bit her bottom lip.

Bellamy's eyes widened, and he immediately opened twitter and went to his sister's page. Sure enough, _ModelBitchOB_ tweeted to the world: _HAPPY TURKEY DAY, BITCHES! Me & my dude Linc82Trav r going 2 clarkeEgrif 's place w/ big bro KINGBBlake. #linctavia #bellarke (turkey leg emoji) (wine glass emoji) (football emoji) (triple heart emoji)_.

Clarke sighed, walking over to the counter to grab a bottle of wine. Bellamy watched her as she uncorked it and took a large gulp right from the bottle. She swallowed, and he watched a drop of gold liquid slip down her chin. She wiped at it with her thumb, before taking another pull. She walked over and presented the bottle to him. He shook his head, taking it from her. "Fuck it," he muttered, bringing the bottle to his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: .Goodness. Yes, I had Bellamy and Clarke kiss. Yes, I had them play it off like it was just to get the weirdness out of the way of them having to kiss in front of other people. Yes, Bellamy was a **_**tad**_** bit into it. A little bit of Octavia's POV after the last chapter and then back to Clarke. Bellamy's POV in the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**Also, I'm introducing the character of Fox from the show (she was never verbally called that, but in the credits she's listed as that for her speaking role in season one), but that is going to be her last name. Her first name is going to be Hayley. I'm going to call her Hayley in this, but know that she's Fox from season 1. **

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><p>Octavia chewed on her bottom lip. She felt like shit. She didn't realize that she'd royally screw up her brother's career by rigging the contest so that Clarke could win. She sat on Clarke's couch, staring absentmindedly at the television as some football game was playing. Lincoln sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Baby, it's okay," he whispered. She shook her head, barely glancing at him.<p>

"Hey, I got this." She twisted her fingers together as Lincoln stood up and was replaced by Bellamy. He sighed, tugging her into his side.

"Are you mad at me?" She asked him nervously, and he chuckled, wrapping both of his arms around her frame, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Of course I'm not mad at you." He breathed into her hair. "You're my baby sister, and I love you."

"But I screwed everything up for you. I just thought that I was doing the right thing by kind of playing up a possible romance between you two. I thought that we'd agreed last night that you'd go out on a couple of fake dates for a few weeks, and then Kane would just say you've decided to be friends."

"You didn't screw anything up. You were being a good sister, and I love you for it. All you tweeted was that we were having dinner at Clarke's. That's _not_ a big deal."

"Except I made up a couple name for you two. I named you guys 'Bellarke.'"

"Yeah, see the only stupid part of that is the fact that you're referring to us as Bellarke. It just a silly name." He chuckled. "Linctavia? Even worse." She giggled, shaking her head.

"I love him, Bells." She felt him tense around her, but he relaxed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head again.

"I guess it is a little weird to hear you talk about someone like this. It's different this time-I can tell. I guess I'm still picturing you as a fifteen year old going on your first date."

"I'm not fifteen anymore." She leaned her head up from his chest to study his face. "You don't have to be my dad anymore, Bells. Or my surrogate mom." He scrunched his nose up. "Remind me to tell Clarke just how cute you look with some makeup on and your hair pulled into little ponytails all over your head." She whispered, earning a pinch to her side. "I just need you to be my big brother."

"O," he blew out a breath. "I'm gonna try my best to _stop_ being so overprotective." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "But, seriously, though, Travers is a decade older. He's older than _me_."

"Bellamy Blake stop picking on your sister. The heart wants what the heart wants." Clarke made her jump, and she headbutted Bellamy in the jaw.

"Fuck." He released her, rubbing his chin. "Look what you did, Princess. Also, don't get involved where you don't belong." Clarke rolled her eyes at him before smiling and sitting on the coffee table in front of the two of them.

"Are you mad at me, Clarke?" Octavia asked nervously.

"Of course not. Why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, I'm the one who's forced you into a shitty situation. I mean, not only did I screw up my brother's career, but now I implied that you're dating him, so this might look bad for you, too."

"I'm not mad at you, and I don't think that your brother is, either." The blonde glanced between the two of them. "I think I've figured out how we could approach this thing."

"You have?" Octavia chewed on her bottom lip, feeling hopeful. "How?"

"Okay, so it's out that we knew each other in high school. That's not a big deal. You could see old high school yearbooks and figure that out." Clarke glanced at Bellamy. "As for the kiss from high school, we go whatever route Kane thinks we should. Does he want to go with what really happened? We were both at a party in high school, had a little bit too much to drink, and we kissed? Or, if he wants to say that yes, we briefly dated in high school, then, fine, whatever, we'll go with that. I think we should go with the truth, though. You and I really didn't like each other in school. But, when kids drink, they do stupid stuff." She smiled at Octavia. "I also think we should do release what really happened with this contest. My friend entered me in the contest, because she found out that I knew Bellamy in high school and that we had kissed. She entered me as a prank, thinking that I'd never win, but wouldn't it be funny if I did?" She narrowed her eyes at Octavia. "And, we also report that _you_ wanted to prank your older brother, so you rigged the contest so that the girl who won is the girl your brother hated and drunkenly kissed in high school or his old flame-whichever story we go with."

"But that makes O look bad." Bellamy said, crossing his arms. "No."

"No, I'll do it. Little sisters mess with their big brothers all of the time. That makes sense and is completely understandable. So, I rigged the contest. Big deal." Octavia shrugged. "So, how do we explain today?"

"So, what Bellamy and I didn't realize was that we'd hit it off and enjoy spending time together." Clarke's eyes combed over Bellamy briefly before they returned to Octavia. Octavia narrowed her eyes, because the two of them were acting weird. "Like most celebrity couples, we go with the claims that we're just friends. I felt bad about my _friend_ not having a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, so I invited him, his sister, and her boyfriend over for dinner with my other friends. We hang out for a little while in public places and do things that are ambiguous. Are we really friends or are we something more? Then, after a few weeks we stop hanging out. Our schedules get too busy, maybe? Kate's looking into getting me a few gallery shows in New York beginning in March, so I've got to do a lot of painting, especially in the last month or so before the shows, as well as the preparation for getting them across the country and so on and so forth.

"The final _Grounders _movie needs to start filming around then, so Bellamy has lines to rehearse, getting back into whatever physical training you have to do to prepare for your role again. Didn't you mention that Kane wants you to do another movie right after that one? Maybe you need to prepare for that role before you film the last _Grounders_ movie, since you'll be cutting the filming schedules close?"

"You've figured it out." Octavia said with a smile. "Your busy schedules mean that you guys have to steadily reduce the amount of time you need to 'hang out.' This is brilliant. Do you two think you could hang out without killing each other for a few weeks?"

Clarke looked at Bellamy, and Octavia watched as the two of them stared at each other. It was like they were communicating through their eyes and facial expressions; both of them narrowed their eyes, cocked their heads slightly, and tensed their jaws. After a few moments of staring at each other, Octavia watched as Clarke extended her hand to Bellamy. "I'm game. What do you say, Bellamy? Think you can fake a friendship with me for a month or two and then we go our separate ways again?"

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><p>Clarke felt kind of stupid when Bellamy didn't take her hand right away. She closed it into a fist and pulled it back to her side. She was just trying to help, and he was being kind of rude about it. Two minutes before, he was being unbelievably sweet to his younger sister, admitting that sometimes he was too overprotective. Now he was staring at her like she was stupid or something. "I'm not sure it's going to work, Clarke. In theory, the idea is great, but I'm not sure you can pull it off." Her face flushed, and she sat up straighter, crossing her arms.<p>

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm just not sure you have the acting chops for this." She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm a perfectly able to act like I'm your more than platonic, but not exactly romantic friend in front of the media for the sake of your career, my personal reputation, and my conscience. I'm offended that you do not think I'm capable of doing so."

"Princess, remember earlier?" She felt Octavia's eyes on her, and she swallowed. He was referencing her weirdness following their kiss. It was just because she didn't mean to get so carried away, and she definitely didn't expect for them to practically start making out in her kitchen.

"That's circumstantial. I've pretended to be someone's girlfriend before." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and wrapped her sweater around her frame. Maybe she should've worn a different top today, but she loved this outfit, and it was still pretty warm out for November. Plus, she kind of wanted to rub Finn's nose in it. She looked damn good without him.

"You've faked a relationship before? With who? Why?" Bellamy scoffed.

"With me." Wells said as he and Kate slowly made their way over. Lincoln followed behind, brushing slightly damp hands on the sides of his legs. Clarke smiled as he pulled at Octavia's hand so that she stood up. He then took her spot and tugged the younger woman into his lap. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at Lincoln. Clarke raised her eyebrows at him, reminding him of his promise to be less overprotective (and, in her opinion, overbearing) to her. He let out a breath before turning his attention on Wells and Kate. Wells sat in one of Clarke's arm chairs, and Kate sat down on one of its arms, leaning into Wells' side, with him wrapping an arm around her waist.

"She faked a relationship with you?" Bellamy asked Wells, who nodded. He rubbed at his sore leg with his hand, making Clarke frown. He'd gotten into a fender-bender with some asshole a few weeks before, so he was a little stiff and still limping slightly.

"Yeah. It was the summer before our senior year in Stanford when we were going for undergrad. Clarke convinced me to work at a summer camp over the summer with her rather than going back home to spend the summers with our parents." He glanced at Clarke, gave him a sad smile. She sniffed, absentmindedly scratching at the inside of her right wrist. She looked up when she felt someone tap her foot, and she saw that Bellamy had stretched out his feet slightly as he leaned back into the couch, making it look like he was getting more comfortable, but the way that his eyes were staring her down, despite the blank look on his face, it was clear that he was checking on her. Thinking about her dad made her sad. She looked away from him, focusing on Wells with a smile.

"Yeah, I was the arts and crafts counselor. Wells was the archery counselor."

"And self-defense and boxing counselor."

"There was fighting taught at a summer camp?" Bellamy asked, surprised.

"For the older boys and girls, yeah. It was for kids with emotional regulation issues. There were kids with autism, eating disorders, OCD, ADHD, trauma and abuse, neglect, depression, anxiety, self-harm." Clarke swallowed when she talked about self-harming. She didn't even get a chance to rub her wrist when Bellamy tapped her shoe with his again. She saw Kate shift slightly, and it was clear that Kate saw Bellamy's foot tapping. Clarke looked pointedly at her, trying to convey to her that, _yes, he knew_. "Boxing and self-defense can be a healthy way to release negative emotion."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. Are you?" Bellamy asked her, and pursed her lips.

"Yes, I am. I regularly go to the gym and hit a punching bag."

"We should spar sometime, Princess."

"Maybe." She rolled her eyes. "Anyways, as I was saying, we were at the summer camp. One of the girls who was a junior in high school had a major crush on Wells. To let her down easy, he said that he was dating someone, and he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend. I agreed, and it was heartbreaking, because Charlotte, the girl who had feelings for him, was heartbroken. She cried, but she told me that I was very pretty and that she understood why Wells would like me so much."

"Aww, poor thing." Octavia said from where she was curled up in Lincoln's lap. She lifted her head to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I'd have had a crush on you if you were my counselor at summer camp."

"Oh, God." Bellamy groaned, burying his face in his hands. Clarke giggled, because he was thinking about how Lincoln was ten years older than his sister. Wells six-year difference with Charlotte was not nearly as bad. "Shut up, Princess. So you were able to fool a sixteen year old. Can you fool everyone in the world who gives a shit about me?"

Clarke eyed Bellamy, cocking her head to the side. She slipped a sweet smile on her lips as she studied him. He narrowed his eyes when her smile turned into a full-blown smirk. She had an idea to prove to him that she could act like a cute girlfriend while making him uncomfortable in front of everyone else. She stood up and walked away from her living area to grab a glass of wine for both him and herself. She took a sip, using the golden liquid as a shot of courage, before making her way towards the living area again. She walked around the couch and held a glass of wine out to Bellamy. He was staring at her with narrowed eyes.

"Here, baby, I got you a glass of wine." He rolled his eyes at her pet name for him and took the glass from her. She smiled sweetly and then proceeded to climb into his lap, just as Octavia was curled up in Lincoln's. She heard the girls start chuckling around them. She balanced herself in his lap by wrapping an arm around his neck and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling his face lightly with her nose before shifting into a more comfortable position in the crook of his arm. She then turned her attention to Octavia and Lincoln. "Octavia, I absolutely love your dress. Purple is a great color on you. It really makes your eyes pop." She said as she casually began to run her fingers through the hair at the base of Bellamy's skull.

"Thanks, Clarke. I absolutely love that skirt and your bustier crop top. It's super cute." Octavia said, and it was obvious she was trying to avoid laughing outright.

"Um, Princess?" Bellamy said, and his chest vibrated against the side of her body.

"Hmmm," she asked him, taking a sip of her wine while using her thumb and index finger to massage the back of his skull. His drifted shut, and his head lolled slightly back into her hand. It probably felt good to have his reck and the base of his skull massaged. He did seem to have a lot of tension there.

"Yeah, I think that people will buy it," Lincoln said, making the rest of the room laugh. Clarke just winked at Bellamy, who groaned, shifting his arm to wrap around her waist. He rested his other arm across her knees.

"Just remember to keep your legs shut, or you might flash the rest of the room." Bellamy grumbled, gently swirling the wine around in the glass across her legs. Clarke rolled her eyes at him, bringing her drink to her lips for another sip.

The door to the apartment flew open, revealing Monty dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. He grinned waving at everyone as he guided a pretty brunette girl in behind him. Clarke's eyebrows rose as she took in the girl. She was new. Just after Monty was a grinning Raven, dressed in a light blue dress, and Finn. She fisted her hand in Bellamy's hair, and he squeezed her hip with his hand. "Release my hair, Princess. I was never into hair pulling." He said to her quietly.

Kate snorted. "Clarke is." The blonde in question jerked as she turned around to shoot Kate a glare.

"Kate!" She whined.

"Oh, really now?" Bellamy asked her, giving her a cocky smile that made her stomach swim.

"Hey, guys!" Monty said as he pulled the girl over, therefore preventing Clarke from responding. "This is my girlfriend, Hayley Fox. Hayley, that's Kate, Wells, and Clarke. And, uh, apparently, Bellamy Blake, Octavia Blake, and Lincoln Travers...so, yeah, apparently, we're friends with celebrities now?" He said scratching the back of his head. Everyone said their hellos to Hayley, who grinned excitedly when she saw the three celebs sitting on Clarke's couch.

"Ohmygod, I'm a _huge_ fan of _The Grounders_." Hayley gushed.

"Thank you. You're sweet." Bellamy smiled at her. "I'd give you a hug, but someone's decided to drape herself across my lap."

"I wanted to make room on the other couch and arm chair for the other guests, honeybun." He groaned again, making Clarke giggle at his expense.

"Are you two dating?" Hayley asked, her eyes wide. Clarke pulled her hands free from Bellamy's hair.

"Of course not. We're just friends." She then raised her index finger to her lips before returning her hand to his hair. He squeezed her hip again as he lifted the glass to his lips to take a big gulp. "Hi, Raven. Finn. So happy you both could join us."

Finn glared at the two of them, but Raven smiled. "You two look adorable." Clarke returned her smile, leaning over to press a kiss to Bellamy's cheek once more. "So, I read some stuff online. Did you guys really go to high school together? When did you reconnect?" Raven sat down on the loveseat on the cushion closest to her and Bellamy. Clarke shifted in Bellamy's lap slightly, hearing his slight groan from the way her hips ground against his. She shifted again, smiling when she felt him squeeze her side in response.

"Yes, we went to high school together, and that idiot over there decided to enter me without my knowledge or permission into the contest." Clarke shot Kate a small glare.

"I apologized for that." Kate said with a sigh, jumping up. "Hayley, why don't you come with me and I can get you a drink, okay? Monty, help us?" The three of them wandered toward the kitchen area.

"Anyways, Octavia over here decided to mess with Bellamy, so she kind of rigged it so that I'd win. He and I absolutely hated each other in high school. Right, Bells?"

"Yeah, you were a stuck up bitch." Bellamy said with a smile.

"And you were a misogynistic asshole with a god complex." Clarke narrowed her eyes at him.

"You always had to be right."

"You always had be the center of attention."

"Yeah, I'm sure you hated it when the light didn't shine on you." She tensed her jaw. "But, you're not so bad now. Still a bitch, but I kind of like it." She rolled her eyes.

"You're still a misogynistic asshole with a god complex." She licked her bottom lip. "But you're irritatingly charming about it."

"Ahh, I think there was a small compliment in there somewhere." She laughed, shaking her head at him. "I like your laugh." He said quietly. Her eyes softened, and she felt her stomach twist. For a moment, she had to remind herself that this was just acting. Shit, he really wasn't that bad of an actor at all.

"I like your smile." She responded in an equally quiet voice.

"God, that was some weird mating ritual. Was that like foreplay for you two? Should we all clear the room so you can have some alone time?" Octavia said, making Clarke jump slightly. She blushed, raising the glass to her lips to take a big sip. She almost choked when she saw that Bellamy had done the same with his own glass.

"So was that news report right that you two dated in high school?" Raven asked as she pulled Finn down next to her by the hand. He sat on the couch beside his fiancee and glared at Bellamy and Clarke. Clarke swallowed.

"No, we didn't." Bellamy spoke, making her look over at him. "I guess we probably always had chemistry, but in high school, we were too stupid to realize that the fighting was just us trying to ignore it." Well, damn, that was a pretty good fake relationship thing to say. Bellamy was way too good at this. Then again, he was a professional actor. Well, there was a difference between improvisation (which she seemed to excel in) and acting, but it appeared that Bellamy could do both.

"That kiss was alcohol-induced, and it was our way of denying any possible attraction between each other." She added. She turned to Raven and stuck out her bottom lip. "You know he actually tried to tell me that he was dared to kiss me. I think his ego was bruised and his feelings were hurt, because I freaked out after the kiss was over."

"Hey, I was not hurt." He muttered, squeezing her hip.

"Wine! Who wants wine?" Kate said as she came over with a couple of bottles in her hands, whereas Monty and Hayley followed, both carrying a couple of glasses in their hands.

"I do!" Bellamy and Clarke said at the same time, holding their glasses up.


	9. Chapter 9

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: Well, Finn's a douche (sorry). Clarke's super honest (not sorry). Bellamy gets tight in the pants (lol). Oh, hey, it's quite the Thanksgiving! My Bellamy POV's are so much longer than my Clarke one's. Hmm. I must write flirtatious asshole really well. Then, again, my twitter ladies know me as a "energy-sucking bitch," so flirtatious asshole isn't that much of a stretch. (Right, Steph and Nora? lol)**

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><p>Bellamy watched as Kate drug Octavia, Hayley, Raven, and another blonde girl by the name of Harper who apparently the girlfriend of the bouncer, Miller, who gave him dirty looks the night before, up the stairs to Clarke's studio to show them all of the paintings she wasn't going to be showing in the show that was on Saturday night. Wells, Monty, Miller, and Lincoln were all lounging on Clarke's couch watching the football game. He and Clarke had gone into the kitchen to check on the status of the food (him, the turkey; her, the potatoes and Harper's hardly edible yam dish that was, in fact, vegan). He laughed as he saw Clarke poke at it with a furrowed brow. It was congealing. Raven's tofurkey (apparently, Finn was also a vegan, so that is why the two of them brought a tofurkey to dinner) was sitting in the fridge, and it would go into the oven while the turkey was resting to be ready for the vegans and Raven (and anyone else who wanted to try whatever the fuck a tofurkey is-suffice to say, Bellamy <em>wasn't<em> trying it).

Harper and Miller had come barrelling in the door a little while after Raven, Finn, and Monty, and Hayley had. Harper was proudly showing off her yam dish, squealing that she made it vegan for Clarke to try. She claimed that she almost put butter in it, but Miller had reminded her that butter was an animal fat, so she made it with coconut oil instead. When Harper had skipped to the kitchen to put the yam dish in the fridge, Clarke shot Miller a death glare from where she was still perched on Bellamy's lap, and the man laughed, holding his hands up in mock defeat. "She wanted to make something that _you_ could eat, too. If we have to suffer, so do you!" She flipped him off before burying her face into Bellamy's neck.

Speaking of Clarke sitting in his lap-it had taken everything within him to not fuck her right there in front of his baby sister, Lincoln, her friends, and her ex-boyfriend. Having a hot girl who was wearing a skirt that would be so easy for him to slide his hand under and a glorified bra as a shirt in his lap was rather distracting. He kept thinking about sagging, old lady boobs and vaginas in order to keep himself from getting hard. Plus, Clarke didn't play fair, because she kept tangling her fingers in his hair, massaging his neck and scalp, or scratching her nails slightly along the skin of his upper back beneath the color of his shirt as she talked to everyone. He kept asking for more wine, and he was quite buzzed at the moment. He bit down on a piece of celery as Clarke grabbed her quinoa dish from the fridge and contemplated when she would put it in the oven to warm. With the turkey and stuffing? With the tofurkey? "Try the cucumber dip. It's to die for." She said as she tossed a glance over her shoulder.

He shrugged, leaning against the sink, watching her flit around the kitchen. "Clarke! C'mere!" They heard Octavia call down from the studio space in the loft. Clarke moved to the sink, holding up her hands to show smeared yam crap.

"Scoot."

"Make me." He said in a low voice, cocking an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes, stepping closer. She reached up and smeared the yam shit on his lips, making him grimace. "Aww, fuck that tastes like garbage." He said, wiping at his lips. She giggled.

"Yeah, Harper's not known for her cooking ability. I've tried teaching her, but it's a lost cause."

"I thought the same thing about O, but somehow I got a few basic dishes through her thick skull. What it takes is finding the right kind of meal. Something that the person really likes and is passionate to learn how to make." She raised her eyebrows at him. "What?"

"You can cook?"

"Yeah, of course I can cook. I practically raised my baby sister from the time I was twelve. I watched a lot of those cooking shows growing up."

"And, yet, you were going to eat Eggo waffles and scrambled eggs today?"

"That's a tradition. One that my mom started when she couldn't afford to get all the traditional stuff for Thanksgiving. We just stuck with it, because it was something to remind us of our mom after she died."

"Oh...I just…"

"You assumed that we made that stuff out of necessity, because we were poor and our mom wasn't the best mom around, right?"

"No." She shook her head, reaching for a paper towel to wipe of her fingers. "I assumed that you guys ate that, because your mom passed away when you were still really young."

"I wasn't that young, Clarke. I was twenty-one."

"And, I was twenty-five. We were both too young to lose a parent." She reached up to lay her hand on his cheek. "You're a good brother, Bellamy." He rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around her waist, shifting her closer.

"Yeah, I know. Apparently, I'm a tad bit overprotective."

"Overbearing, controlling, authoritarian-" He stopped her by leaning down to brush his lips over hers. He felt her still in his arms, so he didn't deepen the kiss beyond the light brushing of his lips against hers.

"Is this okay?" He whispered against her lips. "You know, for the acting thing…" She nodded her head, but he pulled back. "I can feel Finn's glare." She blushed, laying her forehead against his chest.

"CLARKE!" Octavia screamed louder, making them both chuckle. He released her, letting her pull away from him. He watched as she glanced over her shoulder at him as she made her way towards the stairs.

"Make sure you tell them that the tree is mine!" He called out to her, making her laugh and nod her head. She disappeared up the steps, with him still watching her.

"So, you and Clarke, huh?" Bellamy squeezed his hands into fists when he heard Finn's voice nearby.

"Yup. We really hit it off last night."

"I'm calling bullshit. You don't care about her. You want good publicity, and dating a _fan_ could make you look good."

"Don't tell me how I do and don't feel." Bellamy glared at Finn. "It's also a good thing that Clarke _isn't_ a fan, huh?"

"She's too good for you." Finn meant it as an insult, but Bellamy didn't take it as one. Well, at least not in the way that Finn had intended it. Clarke was _too good_ for him. She was too nice, too sweet. He didn't do nice or sweet. He did dirty, rough, messy. He approached dating relationships much in the same way that he approached sex: it was intense, fast (but not _too fast_), a good time for both people before they parted ways. Clarke wasn't the fuck 'em and go type. She was the girlfriend type. The one you take to bed and spend hours worshipping her body before finally succombing to a slow-paced 'love-making.' She was the type you could enjoy lying on the couch with, while watching a movie, and being content to _not_ fuck. He didn't do that kind of shit.

"Yeah, she is, but for some reason she's okay with me spending time with her, so she obviously sees something there." He decided to go with Finn's intended insult rather than to respond to the differences between him and Clarke's approach to life and relationships (and sex).

"Does it bother you to know that I've gone to bed with your new girlfriend?" Bellamy stilled, because Finn had lowered his voice enough to have only Bellamy hear him. He swallowed at the smirk he could hear in Finn's voice. "Does it bother you to know that I know the way she sounds when she comes? It's like this breathy sigh, and her face gets flushed, and her entire body gets covered in goosebumps."

"Stop talking." Bellamy tried to keep his cool, because not only did he not want to hear Finn's interpretation of Clarke in bed and what she looks and sounds like, but to instead witness it first hand (THAT WAS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! he had to actively remind himself), but also because it made him sick that this asshole could be so disrespectful to one of the most genuinely good people that Bellamy had ever come across. He and Clarke might not be friends, and he'd call her a bitch to her face when she was being one, but he would never in a million years disrespect her or any other woman in the way that Finn was.

"What about the fact that I've kissed and touched every inch of her body _first_? That I know which positions she likes? That's she's actually got a bit of a dirty streak. She likes it rough, with your hand tangled in her hair, bent over a table or the back of the couch."

"Shut the fuck up right now or I'll make you shut up." Bellamy turned around and stepped forward, getting into Finn's face. He didn't lower his voice before, because he didn't give a fuck who heard him. He tightened his hands into fists.

"Woah, now, boys. Play nice." Miller said, rising from the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Monty rush up the steps to the loft, probably to get Clarke and Raven. Lincoln and Miller moved forward, ready to step in if need be. But, Bellamy wasn't going to lay a hand on Finn unless he needed to.

"We're just having a friendly conversation." Finn said, his eyes never leaving Bellamy's face. "Just telling Bellamy here about some of the fun times we've had as a gang."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Listen, why don't you and I take a walk, Bellamy?" Lincoln said, holding a hand up. Bellamy felt the rage rolling off of himself in waves, and Lincoln's slow approach to touch his arm, to pull him back, informed him that everyone else could feel it, too.

"What's going on here?" Clarke's voice made him tense, and he took a step back instantly. She moved to his side, wrapping an arm around his. "You okay?"

"No." He spat out, glaring at Finn. "Spacewalker's about to get his face beaten in."

"Hey, now. No one's touching my fiance." Bellamy looked over then at Clarke, to check on her, when he felt the tension in her body at the way that Raven talked about Finn.

"C'mon. You need to cool off. Let's go for a walk, okay?" She said, her blue-green eyes tracing over his face.

"I don't need to do anything of the sort, but this asshole needs to apologize to _you_."

"What are you talking about? Why does Finn need to apologize? What's going on?" Raven looked back and forth between Finn and Bellamy.

"Bellamy, let's go for a walk. _Now_." Clarke pulled on his arm, and he stumbled after her, shooting another glare at Finn as she guided him towards the door. "We'll be back in a bit, guys. Keep enjoying the veggies and fruit. I don't have my phone…"

"I have mine," he coughed, and she nodded.

"Perfect. Call Bellamy if you need us." She drug him out of the door of her apartment and towards the stairs. He followed her blindly, holding on tightly to her hand. When they got out of her apartment and into the bright sun of the midday glare, she turned to face him. "What the hell was that?"

"He's a fucking asshole." He snapped pulling away from her and marching down the street. He needed to clear his head and to ease the tension from his body. She followed, catching up with him. She interlaced their fingers, and he squeezed her hand tightly in his, a protective gesture, because he was having flashbacks to the shit that that guy said about Octavia a few months before. That's why he was acting like this. It reminded him of Octavia.

"I know that. You know that. What did he do this time?"

"He talked about you!" He said loudly, and the few people walking around on the street turned to look at him. He dropped his head, avoiding their gazes.

"What did he say about me? Hey, Bellamy talk to me."

"He asked me if it bothered me to know that's he's slept with you. Or that he knows how you look and sound when you come? How you like to be fucked."

"That fucking turd." He smiled momentarily, but talking about it made him want to punch the asshole again. "How did he say that I liked to be fucked? I'm curious. Because I generally didn't finish with him when we were having sex. That was rare, actually. And usually only during foreplay. And that was more mental than anything he was doing."

"Jesus Christ, Clarke." She looked up at him, and he just shook his head at her. She had no idea what she was saying, but all of it made him want to laugh and simultaneously kiss her. He might be an asshole, but he always made sure that the women he slept with had a good time.

"What? Oh, and pool sex? Yeah, that sucks. No fun at all. It's actually kind of cold and uncomfortable. And, he just didn't really get me in the mood at all, so it was just sucky. We only did that a few times before I was all, 'dude, Finn, I'm not fucking you in the pool.' Moonbounce sex? That was actually more amusing than pleasurable. He fell on his face a couple of times, which hurt his junk. Other times, he'd fall on his ass, because he couldn't balance right."

"What the fuck?" Bellamy laughed, rubbing his free hand down his face. This girl was going to be the death of him.

"Are you feeling better?"

"A little." He shook his head at her, and she grinned at him. "He said something that made me think of what Kate said. He said that you liked it when his hand was in your hair."

"God, yes. That is definitely a turn on for me. I obviously don't like it when guys yank on it so hard that it jerks my neck or tears some of my hair out, but a little tug feels unbelievable."

"And being bent over a table or a couch?" He said it as a joke, hoping like hell she'd shut it down, because he was getting hard thinking about tangling his hand in her hair and tugging it back slightly so that her neck pulled taut, and he could plant kisses and bites up and down the exposed skin.

"He brought that up? Yes, once in a while, that's fun, but Finn always liked to have sex from behind, but I like to switch it up. I get bored easily in bed. I need adventure. I need spontaneity. And, I need to be eye contact to come." She shrugged her shoulders. "That's one of the reasons why I usually never did with Finn."

"Clarke, are you trying to kill me?" He swallowed. He was imagining all of the ways he could take her to bed, and that was dangerous for the both of them.

"Why? Are you getting turned on by thinking about me, naked, and in your bed?" She winked at him, and he groaned, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her flush against him. She sucked in a breath when she felt the slight bulge in his pants from his growing dick.

"Does that answer your question?" He asked in her ear, his breath tickling her hair. He saw her swallow, her throat constricting, and he just wanted to run his tongue up and down it.

"So, we should really get back," she said breathlessly, and he immediately released her. She blushed, looking away from him.

"You know, you surprised me yet again, Princess." She glanced at him, her cheeks still pink.

"How so?" Her voice was husky, and he felt his dick twitch again.

"I, uh, figured you were kind of vanilla in bed. The type of girl who expects a guy to worship her body and then have slow, lazy, missionary sex." She rolled her eyes.

"Don't get me wrong. I will happily let a man spend as much time as he wants doing just about whatever he wants to my body before we have sex, but slow, lazy, missionary sex is only fun on Sundays. Everything about Sundays should be slow and lazy."

"You really are trying to kill me." He sighed, making her giggle.

"I try."

"You know it's taking all of my willpower to fuck you in the backseat of my car right now." He said, pointing to the tinted windows of his SUV.

"Maybe some other time. I've got guests to attend to, Mr. Blake." She pulled him into her apartment building and towards the elevator.

"You sure you want to be in an enclosed space with me right now, Princess?" He said as he pushed her against the wall of the elevator, towering over her and pressing his body against hers. He laid his hand on her sides, beneath her sweater, feeling the soft warmth of her skin that was exposed between the skirt and her top. He stroked his finger over her left side, making her squirm slightly.

"I trust you, Bellamy." She breathed out. "We can joke about sex, and we can make fun of each other, and we can call each other names. But, I saw the way you are with your sister, and I saw how you were ready to tear Finn's head off fifteen minutes ago as a way to defend my honor. I think I'm safe with you in here."

"That's not what I meant. I wouldn't force-"

"And, that's not what _I _meant." She shook her head, standing up on her toes to lay her hand on his cheek. "If I asked you to take me to bed right now, I think you'd hesitate. I don't think you'd actually let us go that far, because you respect me."

"I'm not a good guy, Princess. I'd sleep with you right here and now if you'd ask me to, because I like sex, and it sound's like you'd be a good time."

"No, you wouldn't. You wouldn't because you think that I'm not the type to sleep around, have one night stands, that I'm different from you-more pure or something. You wouldn't have sex with me, because you think sex means more to me that it does to you." He took a step back, because she could read him like an open book.

"Am I wrong to think that?"

"No, you're not. I _prefer_ sex to be in relationships, because it does mean more to me than a release of tension and feeling good. That's what masturbation is for. No, I view sex with someone else as a way of building a connection with them. So, yes, I feel safe in this confined box with you, because I know you wouldn't go there."

He swallowed, and the door to the elevator opened. He walked out of it, and she followed him. She stopped him before they got close to her door. "What's up, Princess?"

"Are you okay now? Should I be worried that you might punch Finn and get blood all over my apartment."

"Nah, I'm good, because I'm thinking about how much of a lousy lay he is. I feel bad for you, but feel super superior to the douche. Even more than I did before."

"You're ridiculous. This pissing contest has got to stop." She rolled her eyes.

"Are _you_ okay? I mean, he shared some personal shit about you and your sex life with me."

"Look, he's an asshole, and I spent a long time crying about him, but I'm over it, okay? Seeing him with her, it's more about hurting my pride than hurting my feelings. I just...he lied to me for three years, and I just felt super stupid."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Thank you for today, though. For being here for me. For defending me. For putting your career at risk for me." He rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"I'm just looking forward to the sexual favors you owe me." He said as a joke as she opened the door. She laughed, her head falling back, and she smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand.

"You're such an asshole. I seriously think I hate you."

"No, you don't. You _love_ me." He scoffed, and she held up her finger and thumb in a pinching gesture.

"This is how much I like you. Hell, I'm not sure I even like you. Maybe tolerate is a better word." He pulled her into his arms, ignoring the eyes from the rest of the people in the apartment.

"You like me. That's all I heard." He said quietly with a chuckle before he leaned down to brush his lips across hers. She tightened her hold on the shirt on his lower back, pressing her lips more firmly to his. Yeah, they've got this acting thing down pat.

They broke the kiss and glanced around at the grinning faces (and concerned faces-Wells and Kate-and amused faces-Octavia and Lincoln) of the people in her apartment. "Where's Raven and Finn?" Clarke asked in surprise. He did a quick double take over everyone, and he realized that he didn't see a pompous dick that was looking for a beating and the girl who stupidly agreed to be his wife.

"Raven took their tofurkey in one hand and Finn's arm in the other, and then she stormed out the door." Kate said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Can we talk?" Clarke glanced at Bellamy, and he nodded his head. He figured that Kate was going to tear into her about their kissing, but the two of them agreed to pretend to be friends who were secretly something more before going their separate ways. They were just playing that part. She pulled away from him and guided her best friend up the stairs to her studio.

"I need a beer." Bellamy said to no one in particular, and the rest of the guests cheered, and they headed back to what they were doing before the explosion between him and the douchebag asshole.


	10. Chapter 10

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: I totally don't hate Finn as much as I've written him in the last chapter. I SWEAR! I cried when he died. That being said...FINN'S A DICK. Upside is that this is super long for you! Yay!**

**Tell me how I just looked up how old Ricky Whittle is in real life, and he's 33. I didn't know that! Holy shit! I'm proud of myself for making Lincoln 33, too. lol**

**I thought about doing a Kate POV in this chapter, because it's been awhile since I had one, but I wasn't feeling it as I started typing it. So, I'm saving Kate for later. Back to Clarke.**

**I've also decided to introduce three female characters from the books that aren't featured in the show, because I have an idea planned in upcoming chapters. Those characters are Glass, Lilly, and Thalia. It's been awhile since I've read the books, but I'm pretty sure Thalia is a brunette, Glass is blonde, and Lilly has dirty blonde hair, but I'm not a 100% sure on this front. If I'm wrong, then I apologize, but these are the hair colors I'm going with for this story. They won't make their debut in **_**this**_** chapter, nor will they be a permanent fixture in the story, but they will be represented by the following actresses:**

**Thalia - Adelaide Kane**

**Lilly - Penelope Mitchell**

**Glass (who in this story will be Lily Glass, but she goes by Glass due to Lilly having the same first name) - Gabriella Wilde**

**In other news: Bob Morley, Eliza Taylor, Adelaide Kane, and Penelope Mitchell are all Australian. I'm sensing a pattern here. I was born on the wrong continent, guys. I should've been an Australian. Sigh. (If I had been an Australian, maybe I would've met Bob before he was famous and snatched up that sexy nerd before everyone and their mom realized his awesomeness...if only, if only!)**

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><p>There was tension in the air between her and Kate; Clarke could feel it. The two of them were barely speaking after their argument on Thanksgiving about Clarke's sudden relationship change with Bellamy. Two weeks ago, she had been adamant that she <em>didn't<em> like Bellamy-hell, that she _hated_ him. The night of their date, though, changed everything. He was funny and charming and ridiculous. He defended her in front of Finn. He was sweet and compassionate when they came back to her apartment after the night was over. He was especially good to her after he discovered the scar on her wrist. The next day, he agreed to give up a tradition that meant so much to his family-that reminded him of happy times with his mom-to support her and protect her from Finn once more.

Clarke felt her own desire to protect him, too, strangely. Maybe it was because of how good it made her feel to show him that she wasn't the prudish, stuck up, little girl that he'd always painted her as in his mind when they were teens (and even now). Maybe it was because he was so protective of her, so she wanted to return the favor. Maybe it was the way that she was learning more and more about him-seeing him as the loving older brother who'd do anything for his baby sister, the secret history nerd, the sweet guy who nudged her foot whenever he worried about something triggering her. Maybe it was a combination of all three that made her want to do what she could to protect his career (_him_). It was why she presented the idea of the two of them fake-dating/fake-friending (is that a word? Or, rather, a word beyond the Facebook connotation?). It was Bellamy who brought up the kissing. She figured that they'd hold hands, walk closely together, hug, and she'd continue to sit on his lap and act like there was something more, but with him kissing her several times in her apartment in front of her friends and his sister and castmate-that was taking it above what she had expected.

She had to admit, though, that the kisses weren't bad. He was a good kisser, and he was extremely attractive. If he were anyone else-if the situation was different-she was sure she would've fallen into bed with him after everyone left, and he had stayed behind to help her do last minute dishes and to present their plan to Kane via a phone call on speaker phone. The pictures that Octavia, Lincoln, and her friends had taken throughout the day had gotten a ton of online traffic. People were still questioning what they meant to each other. But, the circumstances weren't different-they were still Clarke and Bellamy, who got on each other's nerves and yelled at each other without a care for who was watching.

Kate didn't understand the kisses. She thought that things were going too far. She thought that Clarke was going to get hurt. Clarke was so sure she knew what she was doing, though. She trusted Bellamy, just as she had said in the elevator. She trusted herself to _not_ let the _irrational_ part of her brain take over and to screw his brains out. Because one night of fun would wind up in a huge mess, she was sure. She wasn't going to let that happen.

So, Friday had been hell, and Saturday wasn't going much better between her and Kate. However, Clarke had a show to run, paintings to sell, and interviews to make with art bloggers, art reviewers, journalists, and a few paparazzi that she were sure to be smart enough to figure out who CEG was. What she didn't expect was for Bellamy to come stalking into the art show, dressed in a tux that was fitting for a movie premiere rather than an art show, halfway through her show, pulling her into a tight hug. "Um, hi, what are you doing here?" She said in surprise, tangling her hand in his. He squeezed, shrugging.

"The movie was lame, so I ducked out early." He grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter, presenting it to her before grabbing his own. "To your show." She smiled, raising her glass to his. They tapped glasses, sipping the drinks, before he insisted that she tell him about each and every painting on the walls. She could feel the eyes of her friends (Wells was chatting with Miller, Monty, and Jasper in the corner by her river landscapes), journalists and various art snobs, and of Kate. Kate was following their every move, every smile, every touch, analyzing their behavior. Kate was her best friend, aside from Wells, and Clarke could read her friend just as well as Kate could read her.

Clarke was shocked at how happy she was that he was here, that he had chosen to bail on his own work commitment to come to hers, to support her. She squeezed his hand when she realized it, as they were standing in front of one of her more abstract pieces-it was two people walking hand in hand through space, but everything was jumbled, mismatched, full of hard angles and strange shapes. The people were unrecognizable as people, but were more like blobs with triangle-like elbows, balls for hands. Bellamy had scoffed, muttering something about  
>"spacewalker," so she knew that he understood the painting for what it was-a depiction of the strangeness, incompleteness, disharmony that was her relationship with Finn. He had glanced over at her, confusion painting his face at her sudden tight hold on his hand. "Thank you for being here." She said in explanation. He smiled, leaning over to brush his lips against her cheek.<p>

"We gotta leave them wanting more," he whispered as he pulled back; he must have read the confusion on her face by him not kissing her lips, but instead her cheek. "As for the show, you're amazing. I wanted to see if there was anything else that I might steal away for my house. I don't want this one," he nodded towards the Finn-and-Clarke-relationship painting in front of them.

"I wouldn't want you to have that one, either." She pulled him by the hand to another landscape. This one was a full forest theme. Tall trees, dark grass, a hint of an animal or person or _something_ creeping in the background, the black a contrast to all of the greens and browns. There was no red in the painting, but she thought it would go well with the bleeding tree. She smiled when she remembered he'd sent her a text of the painting hanging in what she suspected was his living room. "I think you'd like this one." She pursed her lips. "Something about you reminds me of the woods."

"Oh?" His thumb stroked along her hand, and she bit her lip, fighting the tremor that the feeling sent through her body. "How so?"

"The trees-they're so tall and formidable, and it takes a lot of hard work to bring them down." She cocked her head to the side as she studied the trees in her painting. "Even though they're so strong, they're still living things that give back to the world around them by giving us oxygen. They're a home for birds and small animals. They provide shelter from the rain or sun or predators for other animals. And, if you were to cut into them, to read the rings in their center, you'd see that with each ring, there is a story to tell." She shook her head, blushing. "I don't know. You act so strong and fierce, but there is a goodness to you, Bellamy. I see it with the way you act around Octavia. I saw it when you helped me when you didn't have to. I see it now when you're standing here rather than sitting in a dark theatre with other celebrities."

"Clarke," she glanced over at him, and he stepped forward, pulling her body against his. "That was the cheesiest but cutest thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, shut up." She said, pulling away from him completely. He started laughing, reaching for him, but she smacked his hand away.

"Stop. C'mere." He laughed, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I hate you, Bellamy. I really do."

"No, you don't. Seriously, that was cute. I loved the painting the moment you brought me over to it. Of course I'm gonna buy it, but your explanation for why it reminds you of me is downright adorable." He caught up with her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She pouted, trying to pull from his grasp, but he tightened his hold on her. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. The way his arms wrapped around her, caused her dressed to bunch slightly, inching higher on her hips. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. It's cute. _You're_ cute." She rolled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before releasing her. "Now, do I tell Kate that I wanna buy the painting or the person who owns the gallery or what?"

"Kate," she huffed. "By the way, she hates you, because you," she paused, glancing around before lowering her voice, "_kiss_ me. She might not give you a fair deal on it." She turned away, ready for another drink.

"Clarke, I'd buy that damn painting for a million dollars, and not because it was nicely done, but because you painted it and said that it reminded you of me." She stopped, turning around to face him, arching a single eyebrow. "What?"

"One second you piss me off, and the next you say something sweet. I don't get you, Bellamy Blake. You're confusing as hell."

"Eh, I like to keep people on their toes." He winked at her, before turning his back on her, off to find Kate to purchase her painting.

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><p>Clarke woke up to a buzzing of her phone. She slapped her hand at the phone, trying to quiet it down. It buzzed again, and she whimpered. She opened her eyes, squinting in the light that was streaming in through her windows. She grabbed her phone, frowning when she saw a couple of Twitter notifications. She yawned, swiping her finger across the iPhone's screen to unlock it. She opened her Twitter app to see that Bellamy had tweeted her.<p>

_KINGBBlake: hey "girlfriend" (winking emoji)_ _clarkeEgrif #teambellarke _

The tweet included a link to Perez Hilton's website. She clicked on the link, and it brought her to his blog post with a picture of Bellamy with his arms wrapped around Clarke's waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder with a smile on his face, and Clarke's nose scrunched up and bottom lip sticking out. According to Perez Hilton, she and Bellamy made a super cute couple, despite no definitive word from _their_ (due to Bellamy showing up at the CEG art show, it was now confirmation that Clarke was the sought-after artist from the Los Angeles area) representation. Perez had scrawled _Yummy!_ over Bellamy's head, and _Yes, we're ADORKABLE_ next to Clarke's body in the picture. He was apparently TeamBellarke, as well. Clarke groaned, exiting out of the link to reply to Bellamy's tweet. Her tweet response then set off the most ridiculous Twitter conversation of her life.

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake uggh. Don't humor them. Also your tweet woke me. I'm now breaking up w/ you, "boyfriend" (broken heart emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif pssh! You're not breaking up with me. You LOVE me! (face with heart eyes emoji) (kissing face emoji with heart) (winking face emoji) (kissing boy and girl with heart emoji) (boy and girl with heart emoji) (yellow heart emoji) (blue heart emoji) (purple heart emoji) (green heart emoji) (red heart emoji) (triple heart emoji) (vibrating heart emoji) (big and little heart emoji) (starred heart emoji) (revolving big and little heart emoji) (heart with arrow through it emoji) (red lips emoji) #bellarke_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake dear god! What's with the emoji overload? #loser_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake also if when you say love you really mean LOATHE, then yes, i do._

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif SEE! Clarke admitted that she loves me! #bellarke FTW_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake I said I LOATHE you. You're gross. You'd make a terrible boyfriend_

_ModelBitchOB: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif uggh get a room & get off Twitter._

_KINGBBlake: ModelBitchOB clarkeEgrif can't. Clarke's at her apartment. I'm at my house. My bb is too far away. (sobbing emoji) #bellarke_

_clarkeEgrif: ModelBitchOB KINGBBlake I wouldn't be on Twitter right now if it weren't for your annoying brother. Also...no thanks. He smells. _

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake ModelBitchOB btw really bellamy? bb ? #ANTIbellarke _

_KTWebber: clarkeEgrif KINGBBlake ModelBitchOB he smells beautiful. I would know. He hugged me on Thanksgiving. _

_KTWebber: clarkeEgrif KINGBBlake ModelBitchOB JAHAoliness said that I could tweet that (winking emoji) _

_KINGBBlake: KTWebber clarkeEgrif ModelBitchOB JAHAoliness haha! Sup gurl? how you doin? (winking emoji) (kissing face with heart emoji) _

_KINGBBLake: KTWebber clarkeEgrif ModelBitchOB JAHAoliness ...please tell Wells to not beat me up_

_KTWebber: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif ModelBitchOB JAHAoliness i'm good, handsome. kisses, boo (kissing face emoji with heart) (kissing face emoji with heart)_

_JAHAoliness: KINGBBlake KTWebber clarkeEgriff ModelBitchOB stop hitting on my gf. Don't you have your own to woo? The one who tweeted #ANTIbellarke ?_

_JAHAoliness: KTWebber KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif ModelBitchOB hi...I'm lying right next to you, Kate. SORRY CLARKE_

_clarkeEgrif: JAHAoliness KINGBBlake KTWebber ModelBitchOB screw you, wells. worst best friend ever. _

_KINGBBlake: JAHAoliness KTWebber clarkeEgrif ModelBitchOB welp...this just got awkward. Cuz Clarke isn't my girlfriend…_

_ModelBitchOB: KINGBBlake JAHAoliness KTWebber clarkeEgrif NOT YET_

_clarkeEgrif: ModelBitchOB KINGBBlake JAHAoliness KTWebber NOT EVER_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif ModelBitchOB JAHAoliness KTWebber OUCH (broken heart emoji) #bellarke ?_

_JAHAoliness: clarkeEgrif KINGBBlake KTWebber ModelBitchOB Hey! I'm the BEST best friend ever._

_JAHAoliness: KINGBBlake KTWebber clarkeEgrif ModelBitchOB Blake, get on this. You gotta ask Clarke to be your gf before someone else snags her_

_KTWebber: clarkeEgrif JAHAoliness KINGBBlake ModelBitchOB but I'm the best friend…right?_

_clarkeEgrif: KTWebber JAHAoliness KINGBBlake ModelBitchOB yes. YOU are the best friend._

_KTWebber: JAHAoliness clarkeEgrif KINGBBlake ModelBitchOB HA! I win as Clarke's BFF (flexed arm emoji) (dancing girl in a red dress emoji) (girl in pink shirt with bent hand emoji)_

_ModelBitch: KTWebber JAHAoliness clarkeEgrif KINGBBlake lol #teamKateBFF_

_BellamyBlakeLuver: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif if Clarke doesn't want you, I volunteer as tribute (girl in pink shirt raising her hand emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: BellamyBlakeLuver clarkeEgrif thanks for the support! _

_clarkeEgrif: BellamyBlakeLuver KINGBBlake he's free to a good home. Heads up though: he's not housebroken. He's stupid. He slobbers (face with triangle eyes and tongue sticking out) _

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif BellamyBlakeLuver hey now! I don't slobber. You weren't complaining about my kisses on Thanksgiving _

_ModelBitchOB: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif BellamyBlakeLuver (wide eyed blushing shocked emoji) gross #bellarke (winking face emoji)_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake BellamyBlakeLuver I was trying to be polite (face with halo emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif BellamyBlakeLuver take that back or I'll never ask you to be my girlfriend_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake BellamyBlakeLuver promise ?_

_BellamyBlakeLuver: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif seriously I volunteer to be your gf. I'm sure you're __wonderful kisser._

_clarkeEgrif: BellamyBlakeLuver KINGBBLake sorry, but he's taken. And yeah he's not that bad of a kisser. I guess._

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake BellamyBlakeLuver bells, when you ask me to be your gf, i demand flowers. calla lilies. they're my favorites. (pink closed flower with two leaves emoji)_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake BellamyBlakeLuver and a love note professing all of the things you love about me (envelope with heart emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: BellamyBlakeLuver clarkeEgrif sorry but my heart belongs to satan _

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif BellamyBlakeLuver my dearest Clarke, let me list all of the things I love about you: 1 you're a cold-hearted bitch (purple smiling devil emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif BellamyBlakeLuver 2 you always have to be right. 3 you're verbally abusive. 4 you're a tease. 5 you're a princess (blonde girl emoji with crown)_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake BellamyBlakeLuver you're really laying it on thick. I'm such a lucky girl (cat with heart eyes emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif I'm bored. I'm coming over._

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake dude, it's not even 9 am on a Sunday after a late night at my show. I'm going back to bed. (sleeping emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif I'll join you. _

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake my bed is a strictly Bellamy Blake free zone. if you like it, then you should put a ring on it (diamond ring emoji)_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBLake i like white gold, silver, or platinum. preferably platinum. also i'm a size 7 for rings...you know...for future reference (winking face emoji) (diamond ring emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif I thought you already came with a goat, emerald necklaces, and dresses with their matching undergarments ? _

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif didn't I already buy you ? I wasn't under the impression I needed to give you a ring too! _

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake my apartment door will be open for one hour. If you don't make it before I lock it again, then no snuggle session for you_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake we're watching Netflix. I'm thinking horror movies. (gun emoji) (knife emoji) (bomb emoji) (hammer emoji) (wrench emoji) (needle emoji) (pill emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif I'm on my way! (running guy emoji)_

_KINGBBlake: clarkeEgrif you're kind of scary, bb...I'm strangely turned on right now_

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake bring breakfast_

_BellamyBlakeLuver: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif relationship goals #bellarke_

Clarke laughed at Bellamy's last tweet. She rolled her eyes as she sat up, yawning at how tired she was. She climbed out from under the covers, smoothing her bedding back into place. She then hobbled her way to the front door to unlock it. She made her way to her bathroom where she piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun before engaging in her morning routine of going to the bathroom, washing her face, moisturizing her face, and brushing her teeth. She left her bedroom, pulling a sweater on over her tank top and a pair of cotton shorts. She grabbed two socks from her dresser, one was an orange one with black cats on it, the other white with images of the Valentine's Day conversation hearts on it, to tug on her feet.

Before she could make it to the kitchen to begin making coffee, her phone began to ring. She frowned, walking over to her bed to grab it from where she left it. Her eyes widened when she saw _Asshole_ flashing across the screen. She had no idea who was saved in her phone as that. She certainly never saved anyone as that in her phone. She thought about who could possibly have access to her phone to change a name in the contacts to something so rude. She accepted the call. "Hello." She said it a neutral voice, not wanting to allude to the fact that she had no idea who was calling her.

"Clarke, hey, I'm so glad that you answered." She felt her stomach drop when she recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. She realized where the name was coming from. Kate. Kate had set Finn's name as asshole.

"What do you want, Finn?" She said, sitting down on her bed.

"Clarke, I wanted to apologize to you for my behavior on Thanksgiving. It really was unkind of me to get into an argument with Blake like that and to ruin your holiday. He really is a cad, though, Clarke. You should've heard the things he was saying about you." She tensed her jaw. The things that Bellamy was saying about her? Really?

"Oh? What kind of things was he saying about me?" She glanced up when her apartment door opened, revealing Bellamy, brandishing two to-go cups of coffee and a brown paper bag. She waved and returned her focus onto the phone call, watching him from the corner of her eye as he shut and locked the door behind himself.

"I don't know if I should say anything. I don't want to hurt you. I just...I felt like I had to warn you about him." Bellamy cocked an eyebrow at Clarke as he made his way over to her, holding out the coffee to her. She took it from the portable tray, smiling in her thanks.

"Well, Finn, I really appreciate you _warning _me about Bellamy, but I have to make a decision for myself. Please share with me the horrible things that he was saying about me." She bit her lip at the look on Bellamy's face to keep herself from laughing.

"Speaker," he mouthed to her, and she rolled her eyes, but acquiesced, pulling the phone from her ear to put it on speaker phone. Bellamy had put down the bag of food and sat down beside her, holding his own coffee in his hands.

"Well, Clarke, I'm not sure I should. Really. I'd hate to hurt you."

"What. did. he. say. about. _me_?" She emphasized each word, not hiding her irritation with him.

"See! This is what I was worried about! I knew that it would upset you. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Then, why did you call?" She reached with her left arm to place her coffee down on her end table, since she was holding her phone in her right. The move resulted in her sweater falling slightly off her shoulder. She shifted her shoulder a little, attempting to slide it back into place, but it only resulted in the sweater falling off even further. She gave up, tightening her left hand into a fist.

"I just wanted to protect you, Clarke. I wanted to tell you that I think he's a bad guy and that you should stay away from him. I care about you. I _love_ you." Her eyes fell shut, and she shook her head.

"You know what I think, Finn? I think that you called me, because you wanted to hurt me. I don't think you really love me at all. I think that you don't like that I'm pissed off at you, because you have to be the good guy in everyone's mind. Except you're not the good guy. You cheated on your girlfriend with me. You made me the other woman. You lied to me. You kept pursuing me even after Raven forgave you and took you back. You keep pursuing me even though you're engaged. You don't want to let me have any chance of being happy with someone other than you, let alone happy when I'm just me, by myself. That isn't love, Finn! That's manipulation and betrayal. That's not real love. If you really loved me, Finn, you would let me go." She felt Bellamy's hand on her lower back, and she felt him shift closer to her. She leaned against his side, thanking him silently for his support in that moment.

"Clarke, I'm not trying to-"

"I know what you two were discussing on Thanksgiving, Finn." Clarke said, shutting down Finn's attempts to explain himself, to keep up his claims that he loved her and that he was doing this to protect her.

"I-what?" Bellamy tensed his jaw, shifting away from her to put his own coffee down beside hers.

"Oh, you don't think that Bellamy told me the second I pulled him out of my apartment? Did you really think that he's the type of guy to lie about something like that? Bellamy might have a bit of a history when it comes to romantic relationships, but one thing he's never done is lie when it comes to his intentions with women. You can ask every girl that he's ever been linked to before or after his acting career. You should've heard the locker room talk about him in high school." She felt Bellamy's smile against her bare shoulder, because she was echoing his claims he'd said to her on their date at _Spacewalk_ a few days before.

"Of course he told me." She continued, trying to keep her breathing even, because he had began pressing light kisses along her shoulder, shifting slightly behind her as he worked his way towards her neck. She didn't know what kind of game he was playing, because he wasn't exactly hiding that he was there any longer. "He said that you shared intimate details about our sex life with him in order to put him in his place. Like claiming that you bedded me first was going to scare him away."

"If anything, I took it as a challenge." Bellamy said, pulling his face away from her throat. She blushed, and she heard Finn's sputtering from the other end of the call. "Plus, it gave Clarke the opportunity to set the record straight about what she really likes in bed, so I guess I owe you a thank you." He reached up, pulling the hair tie from her hair, letting her blonde hair fall loose. She shifted, turning to stare at him in shock, trying to figure out what he was doing. He just winked at her, sliding his hand into her hair, fisting it slightly. She let out an involuntary moan when he tugged it gently, and she immediately smacked a hand to her mouth. "Shit, Princess…" He grinned at her, and she slapped at him. He was taking advantage of his knowledge that she liked her hair being pulled a little to put Finn in his place. "Yeah, we gotta go, asshole. We're a bit busy."

Bellamy grabbed the phone from her hand, moving forward at the same time to press his lips to hers. Clarke squeaked in surprise, and she heard Finn's indignant shout of "_Clarke_" before Bellamy disconnected the call and dropped her phone to the floor. He released her moments later, and she was surprised when she wished that _he didn't_. She swallowed pressing a hand to her lips. "What was that?"

"That was us implying that we're having great sex right now to your asshole ex-boyfriend." She rolled her eyes, looking away. "Plus, it was super hot to hear you moan like that." She felt her cheeks burn, and she buried her face in her hands.

"Shut up!" She whined at his laugh. She pushed at him when he crowded her again, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Get off, dickhead." She snapped when he pulled her side flush against his chest, his fingers beginning to tickle her side. She squirmed, elbowing him in the gut. He groaned, falling backwards, bringing her with him. They fell back against her bed. She giggled, looking down at him from where she was lying on top of him. "I hate you." She told him, and he grinned at her.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, his eyes tracing down her face to her neck and to settle on her chest. "Are you wearing a bra?" He asked. She shook her head. "Fuck, Princess. You're mean." He groaned, releasing her, and she climbed off of him, looking down at her own chest.

"My tank top has a built in bra." She said with a shrug. She grabbed the bag from where he left it on the floor and her coffee from where she left it on her end table. "I'm wearing my pajamas from last night. You're lucky I put a sweater and socks on." She made her way towards her couch.

"Mismatched socks." He said, following her with his own coffee. She shrugged, digging into the bag for the food he brought her. She cocked an eyebrow at the pastries she pulled out. "Vegan eclairs. Don't worry. I double checked at the bakery."

"I think I'm in love." She sighed happily, biting into the pastry, moaning as she relaxed into the couch.

"Okay, so, yeah, you gotta stop making that noise." He told her as he took a sip of his coffee.

Clarke winked at him as she licked her thumb free of some chocolate. Bellamy shook his head at her, pulling his phone out to snap a picture of her. "What are you doing?"

"You look adorable right now." He said with a laugh. "Your hair's a mess, you've got chocolate all over your face from the eclair, and you've got mismatched socks. Hell, your entire outfit is mismatched. I'm tweeting this shit."

"Wait. No!" She pouted when she heard her phone buzz from where they'd left it on the floor by her bed. "Mean!"

"Hey, look at that! Thirty-three retweets already. Less than ten seconds. That's a new record, Princess."

"Can I see?" He held his phone out to her. She took it and studied the tweet. The picture was of her grinning at the eclair as she dipped her finger into the filling as it started to spill out of the pastry to catch it. There was some chocolate lining her upper lip. Her legs were resting on the ottoman in front of her, her left ankle resting over the right one. Her mismatched outfit was perfectly on display, as well as the knotted mess that was her hair on top of her head. She didn't see herself as being adorable, but based on some of the tweets he'd received in response to his tweet, most of his followers thought she was, too.

_KINGBBlake: breakfast with the princess. She's excited about the eclairs if you couldn't tell (princess emoji) (crying laughing emoji) (coffee cup emoji) (donut emoji) clarkeEgrif_

_J12G: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif god I want to hate her but I can't! (sad face emoji) she's so pretty (crying emoji)_

_Abbydabbydoo: KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif I want to be her when I grow up! (complete with hot actor bf)_

_giggles123: "KINGBBlake: breakfast with the princess. clarkeEgrif" #bellarke #getmarriedalready _

Clarke stopped reading the tweets and rolled her eyes, wiping at her lip after she handed his phone back to him. "One of your fans says that we should get married. Are you prepared for that kind of commitment?" She joked before biting into her eclair again, making a big mess of herself again be damned.

"Eh. You don't put out when we're in the honeymoon stage of our romance. Sex is supposed to stop when you get married. I'll pass." She kicked him with the foot closest to him, and he caught it. She whined when he didn't let go of her foot, but instead held onto it.

"Are you going to eat with me, or just continue to hold my foot?" She asked him as she finished off her eclair and began sucking at her fingers.

"I'm having more fun watching you go to town on those things. How are you not fat? Every time I've seen you eat, you act like it's some orgasmic experience."

"I love food." She said with a shrug, wiggling her foot in his hand. Her eyes fell shut when he began massaging the base of it with his thumbs. "Fuck, that feels good." She swallowed, grabbing at her coffee to take another sip. "If something tastes good, and I enjoy it, I'm vocal about it. It's the same approach I have to sex. If I like something in bed, I let the guy I'm with know." She grinned at him when he dropped her foot.

"Finn's such an asshole." He said with a shake of his head. She furrowed her brow at him. "He's eaten meals with you. How does he not know what you really like in bed?"

"Ehh, I actually get super quiet when I come." She shrugged her shoulders as she dug into the bag for a second eclair. She passed him the brown paper bag, looking up with a furrowed brow when it took him a while before he finally accepted it. He opened his mouth a few times, but then promptly shut it with a clicking noise coming from his teeth as they hit each other. "Oh, did I break you?" She giggled. "Is this TMI? I'm just being honest."

"I, uh…" He shook his head, and she chuckled, biting into the eclair.

"These are _so_ _good_, Bell. I'm so glad you brought them." She smiled to herself as she began enjoying the pastry. Soon enough, he joined in by digging through the bag for his own eclair. She enjoyed getting him flustered, because it meant that he was feeling some of the same feelings that she was feeling. The irrational part of her brain was trying its best to take over and make her throw herself at him, sucking the flavor of chocolate and filling from his lips and tongue. She couldn't do that, because this was a fake relationship for the media, not a real romance. This _was not_ a real relationship!


	11. Chapter 11

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: This chapter will feature Kate and Octavia's POVs. Both of them are trying to get an understanding of what their half of the Bellarke pairing feels for the other. We also explore the Karke friendship and the Blake siblingship, too. It can't all be Bellarke romance. Yes, I made my own ship name for Kate and Clarke's friendship.**

* * *

><p>Kate hung up the phone, grinning. "What?" Clarke asked with an arched eyebrow as they ate brunch on Wednesday afternoon.<p>

"I got you another show." The blonde frowned, which made Kate frown. Why was she frowning? Another show was a good thing. That was Kate's job as her agent-to get the talent a show to showcase said talent.

"When?"

"Two weeks from now. It's something small, and, okay, it's less of a show, and more of a portion of a show, but it's for a good cause."

"A good cause?"

"Yes, a number of California-based artists are showcasing their work for a children's cancer benefit. There's a silent auction, a lot of schmoozing and rubbing elbows, expensive food and wine, cheesy music-that kind of thing."

"Oh, my kind of night." Clarke said with a sigh and a sarcastic smile. "Children's cancer benefit?"

"Yup."

"As much as I hate medical testing on animals, I'm willing to go to a benefit to pediatric cancer. Where is it held? How many pieces?"

"It's in San Francisco, at the UCSF Medical Center, actually. They're requesting five pieces. Do you think that you could get five done in less than two weeks?"

"I've got a few in the works and some sketches of possibilities. I think I could make it work, but I'll have to limit my social life to make sure everything is done when it needs to be."

"Yeah, you have to tell Bellamy to stop texting you about how _bored_ he is." Kate said with an eye roll. She liked Bellamy, truly. He was funny, charming, and way too good-looking for his own good. She enjoyed the time she'd spent in his company, but she didn't like the constant bickering between him and Clarke. What she liked even less was the random _kissing_ between him and Clarke. She didn't get it. Clarke was adamant that she hated Bellamy, but they go on one date together, and, suddenly, their spending a holiday with one another, he's bailing on his own work commitments to go to hers, and then hanging out and watching horror movies in their pajamas? Hell, on Monday and Tuesday, Kate had to literally take Clarke's phone away from her because Bellamy kept texting her while they were going over the sales of her pieces from the show the Friday before, as well as discussions about possible galleries in NYC for some spring shows.

"What's your problem? I'm just doing the right thing by getting him out of a jam…"

"I don't have a problem." Kate said with a sigh, but Clarke's pointed look indicated that the blonde wasn't buying that. "Okay, my problem is that one second you say you hate him, and the next second you're flirting via Twitter and hanging out in your apartment, and _not in public_ as was agreed upon, in pajamas while watching horror movies and eating eclairs."

"Shit. I forgot to ask Bellamy which bakery he got those eclairs from." Clarke said, digging through her bag for her own phone.

"Clarke!" The blonde immediately dropped her phone onto the table, looking chastised. "I thought you _hated_ him."

"I don't hate him. I _did_, but then I got to know him a little better. He's not that bad of a guy, and he's really sweet with Octavia. I don't hate him. I tolerate him."

"People who tolerate each other don't kiss each other."

"That's just for, you know, _them_." Clarke waved her hand at the passersby, speaking quietly as if to avoid drawing attention to their conversation.

"Bullshit. You kissed at your apartment in front of _our_ friends and several people who know that this is a fake relationship."

"But that was for Finn!" Clarke grabbed her drink, taking a big sip of it.

"Yes, when Finn was actually there, but you guys kissed when Finn had already left."

"We thought that Finn was still there! That was about making him think that I'm moving on."

"I have an idea! Instead of kissing Bellamy Blake to make Finn think you're moving on, you go out and _actually_ _move_ _on_?"

"Kate."

"No, I'm serious, Clarke. I'm all for you getting over Finn. Frankly, it's been two and a half years, so I'd hoped you would've been by now." She sighed, studying her best friend in all of the world. "I'm worried about you, Clarke. I love you. You're my best friend. I want to make sure that you're okay."

"I am okay. I strangely feel more okay than I have in a long time, Kate. Ever since this stupid contest and hanging out with Bellamy, I've felt okay." Clarke chewed on her bottom lip. "Sometimes I feel like you and Wells baby me a bit." Kate arched her eyebrow at that. She felt offended. She tried not to, but she _did_. "I love you for it, believe me. I appreciate that you guys worry about me and want to protect me, but constantly checking up on me at every little moment-waiting to see if I'm going to take a razor blade to my wrist again-I think it's keeping me too caught up with the mindset that I was in when I did it."

"Wow, Clarke." Kate shook her head. Yeah, she was fucking offended. How could she not be offended by that? Her best friend was basically saying it was her fault she still thought about self-harming. Hell, she hadn't even been around when Clarke did it, but after spending two years involved in Clarke's life, and having been dating Clarke's best friend for the last six months, she'd heard every detail about that moment and the events that led to it. She was worried about seeing her friend slip back into that place again.

"I'm sorry if saying that hurts you. Don't get me wrong, Kate, I have moments when I'm alone, without you and Wells, where I think about cutting myself again, so it's not like I'm blaming you for being in that place. That's me and my own shit, which I'm dealing with and will probably deal with for a very long time." Clarke shook her head, making her blonde ponytail hit some poor waiter as he walked by. "Oh, sorry." The two of them hid their grins behind their drinks, taking a sip to stop from laughing. "What I'm saying is that I won't be able to deal with those moments when they come up if it's always in my mind-and everyone else's-that I'm going to hurt myself."

"What are you trying to say? I shouldn't worry about you?"

"No, you don't stop worrying about me, but maybe just let me breathe a little?" Clarke reached across the table and took Kate's hand in hers. Kate gripped her best friend's hand tightly. "I love you, Kate. You're my best friend. You don't need to walk on eggshells around me anymore, okay?"

"Okay. What does that have to do with Bellamy?"

"As for Bellamy-he treats me like I'm not gonna break. He makes me feel normal."

"I saw him on Thanksgiving. He kept nudging your foot, and he stood up to Finn for you. I'm surprised you told him at all. Miller, Jasper, and Monty don't even know. Hell, _Finn_ doesn't even know, and he's part of the reason why everything happened."

"Bellamy was asking me about my tattoos, and he discovered the scar on my wrist. He asked me about it, and I told him everything. He was really supportive in that moment. At the same time, though, when I wanted to get away from that place, he went back to treating me like he always does. One minute he can be sweet and protective, and the next he's a total asshole. I appreciate that about him. I just feel normal. Like, he isn't going to change how he acts around me, because he knows, but he knows when to check in."

Kate studied Clarke as she spoke. The blonde was kind of staring off into space as she talked. Kate narrowed her eyes, because it was seriously weird to see her friend acting like this. She hasn't ever seen Clarke act like this. "Clarke, do you _like_ him?" Clarke's head flew up, and shock was written all over her face.

"What? No!" She shook her head. "I mean, I like him as a person. He's not too bad. He still drives me insane, but he's not that bad. I've had fun the few times we've hung out. I guess, maybe, he and I could be friends at the end of this? I definitely wasn't expecting that, but if anything good comes from faking a relationship with him is that maybe we could become friends?"

Kate narrowed her eyes before giving Clarke a small head nod in response. She was calling bullshit. It was barely a week into their fake relationship, and she was already super worried about Clarke's heart getting broken. It was her opinion that Bellamy and Clarke should've never kissed, because lines were going to get blurred.

* * *

><p>"Clarke won't return my texts." Bellamy sighed, tossing his phone aside. Octavia cocked an eyebrow at him before shaking her head. She tried to hide her grin, truly, but it was hard. Her brother was acting like a lovesick teenager who got in a fight with his girlfriend. "Get that grin off your face," he said, pointing at her.<p>

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" She giggled, rolling onto her back. She was stretched out on the huge and insanely comfortable couch he had in his media room. They were watching some disaster flick that Bellamy turned down a role for due to scheduling conflicts for another action flick that was a cult hit amongst teens. Frankly, the movie blew in her opinion, so her brother lucked out that _Interweb_ conflicted with _The Island_. Perhaps the reason why _The Island_ was so popular was because her brother was in a loincloth for much of it. She grimaced at that thought.

"I'm not ridiculous. I'm trying to be seen out and about with my maybe-girlfriend. For my career."

"Oh, right. _For your career_." Octavia scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"O…" Uh-oh. He was using his _I'm-older-than-you-and-therefore-wiser_ voice, or his Daddy-Bellamy voice, as she liked to think of it as. He pulled it out when he had to play the disciplinarian card when he caught her sneaking in (or out) of the house when she was in high school. Her mom was too busy with her johns to really pay attention to her daughter's comings and goings. It was Bellamy who raised her.

Not that she didn't love her mom. She did. Truthfully. Aurora Blake did what she could to take care of her kids, and she made enough money to keep a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, and food on the table. Sure, it was a shitty two-bedroom apartment in which she got the second bedroom and Bell had the couch, and their mom conducted business in the other bedroom. And, the clothes on their backs were from the Salvation Army, thrift stores, and other similar places. They were lucky if they got to splurge on clothes from Walmart and Target during a particularly good month for their mom. And the food-the food was the marked down, old crap-bruised fruits and vegetables, slightly stale bread, and the like. But, they still had shelter, clothing, and food. But, the second Bell graduated from high school, he was able to go from working part-time at the WaWa just outside of the city in Capitol Heights, MD to working their full-time and adding in a part-time job at McDonalds. The income from his two jobs, plus Aurora's _work_, got them to shopping solely at Walmart with splurges at Target, Then, their mom died.

Things got tight after that. They moved out of their apartment and into a one-bedroom apartment. Once again, Bellamy slept on the pull-out couch rather than in a bed. Octavia offered to start working in order to supplement their income, but Bell had refused. He wanted her to finish school and go to college. Things didn't work out that way, though. O got "discovered" by Kane while he was in town for some reason or another, and he asked her if she'd ever thought of modeling and acting. Octavia didn't think she had the chops for acting, but Bell did. She knew it, because he charmed his way into getting a lot of things for them. He was smart, cunning, and good-looking. He had what it took to make it big in Hollywood, so she introduced Bell to Kane. They took off from there. Kane started getting them auditions, and everyone suddenly loved the Blake siblings. Everyone wanted them to model or act for them. Things were going well, but sometimes it still felt like they were fighting to prove that they weren't trash to the rest of the world. They were scared shitless that their mom's occupation before she died was going to be outed, and they were going to be no longer America's darling siblings. They were scared shitless that one day someone bigger and better than them was going to come along, and they'd no longer be wanted. In Hollywood, despite their success, they still felt like they were fighting for their lives.

"It _is_ for my career. If it weren't for the studio heads still waffling over whether or not Gage is going to be killed off of the franchise that I've worked my ass off on, Clarke and I wouldn't have anything to do with each other."

"That's bullshit." Octavia sighed, leaning up to rest her weight on her elbows. "You guys were only supposed to hang out in public, but you two have spent a lot of time at her apartment in the last week."

"We only hung out once in her apartment, and that was after a public Twitter conversation." Bellamy said from his position on the other couch. Octavia shook her head.

"Yeah, what should've happened was that you picked her up and brought her to that bakery before going your separate ways, not hang out at her apartment and eat pastries and watch horror flicks."

"I was actually shocked that the Princess wanted to watch horror flicks. I would've thought she's the type to watch independent films and chick flicks." He shook his head with a small grin on his face. "She's definitely not what I expected."

That was as close to Bellamy admitting that he was wrong about something that Octavia had ever heard in her twenty-three years on this planet. She raised her eyebrows as she studied her brother's demeanor. _He liked Clarke_. "You _like_ her."

"What? No." He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Bellamy, you're blushing."

"I'm not blushing! Shit, O. I don't like her. Not in the way you're implying, anyways."

"Is there something wrong with that, Bell? Really?"

"You know I don't do relationships." He said pointedly.

"I hate to break it, dude, but you're in one. Whether or not you want to pretend that it's all for the media and the fans and the studio heads, that's your business, but this is what a relationship looks like. You go on dates. You hang out. You kiss. You have sex. You enjoy the other's company."

"Stop talking about sex, because it makes me want to shoot Lincoln."

"Oh, c'mon, we're back to that now? That ship has sailed, big bro. I swiped my v-card back in high school with Brian Atoms."

"Aww, fuck, O." He groaned, and she chuckled. Sometimes she enjoyed upsetting her brother, but it was time to get serious.

"All joking aside, Bell, I just want to see you happy, and I think that you look happy with Octavia. You two have only been hanging out for a week, and you seem happier."

"That's the boost in my career." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, and you bought a fucking painting that she said reminded her of _you_. That's some boyfriend shit."

"Shut up, Octavia."

"Look, I'm not saying that you have to date her, but maybe you guys could be friends at least?"

"Friends with the Princess? I doubt that."

"Dude, you text her fifty thousand times a day, _every day_. You've seen each other five out of the seven days of the last week."

"It's for my career."

"Bellamy, you won't be able to use that for the rest of your life." She sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs, which she folded up against her chest. "Do you think I could talk to you about something?"

"What's up?" Bellamy shifted his attention on her, his hand absentmindedly grabbing the remote to turn the television off.

"I don't have any girlfriends. Not really, anyways." She blushed. "You're all I have, and I know you'll be uncomfortable with me talking to you about this, but…"

"Is this about Lincoln? Did he hurt you? Break up with you? I'll kill him!" Octavia immediately shook her head.

"Bell, stop. No, he didn't do anything of the sort." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "We started to talk about it on Thanksgiving, but we got interrupted. I love him, Bells. I haven't told him or anything, but he's said it to me." He was silent for a few minutes, and she released a breath. "Bells?"

"Look, I'm not going to pretend that it's not weird or uncomfortable for me to talk to you about this, but I'm gonna do my best, because you're my sister." He rubbed a hand down his face. "What's keeping you from telling him that you love him?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. At first, I thought it was because of the age difference." Bellamy gave her a pointed look, but Octavia just returned it, holding a hand up to keep him from opening his damn mouth to interrupt her. "Yes, I'm aware that ten years is a big difference, but it doesn't have to be a bad thing, right? We've always had to be older than we were, so it's not that strange that I'm dating a guy so much older."

"O, we shouldn't have had to be forced into growing up as fast as we did growing up. We were dealt a shit hand. You're twenty-three. You should be out with your girlfriends, dating a bunch of guys, having fun, figuring out what you want in a relationship. Instead, you've got a boyfriend a decade older than you. He's at the stage of his life where he's thinking about life-long commitments, like marriage and kids. You're too young for that shit. Hell, he's not even able to keep one marriage together." He scoffed, and she glared at him.

"Sometimes things don't work out, Bellamy. Sometimes marriages end. Lincoln and Lexa are very popular actors. They hardly saw each other in the last two years. They're more strangers than married partners. They were miserable and unhappy together, so they went their separate ways. And, yes, I felt uncomfortable with my role in their breakup, because I did play a role. I was there for Lincoln when Lexa wasn't. I was his supporter, his confidant, and his friend. We steadily got closer over the years, and I fell for him in the same way he fell for me. I will admit that I freaked out after he left her for me. We hadn't kissed. We'd barely even touched, but I felt like a slut. He was having an affair with me, Bell-it was an emotional one, and it wasn't right. It was why I walked away for a few months before I realized that I felt like there was a piece of me missing. I went back to him, and we talked. We decided to give it a go."

"So, how have you been hiding-only staying in your own places for your 'dates?'"

"Yes, but it wasn't even about a physical relationship. I know you're thinking that that was all we did. It's not true though."

"I don't want to know that, O."

"We only started having sex in the last two months. We've taken it really slow. We've been watching movies, eating dinners, playing board games and card games-anything to get to know each other even better. Sex wasn't important-or, at least, not the sole focus of our relationship."

"God, I don't want to know that!" She sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, O. I do want to keep talking to you about this, but I don't need to know when you two started having sex. It's weird. All I see when I look at you is my _baby_ sister. I'm trying, I _swear_, but it is hard. I don't want to be the overprotective asshole anymore."

"Well, I might like that you're a bit of an overprotective asshole," she said with a shrug, holding up her index finger and thumb to indicate a small amount. "Only this much, though." She smiled at him.

"I'm glad that this is a real relationship for you and Lincoln. I'm glad that it's not all about sex or whatever." She chuckled, nodding her head. "I'm not hearing the bad, O. What's keeping you from telling him that you love him?"

She began chewing on her bottom lip, unsure how to say what she needed to say. "I think that it has to do with you."

"_Me_? What are you talking about?"

"It's always been you and me, Bell. Even when Mom was still alive, it was still you and me." She gave him a sad smile. "I think that I'm just as scared to let you go as you are to let me go. I think I'm scared to let someone in. Does that mean that I'm going to lose you?"

Bellamy was at Octavia's side before she got the question out. He wrapped his arms around her frame, holding her against his chest. He pressed a series of kisses to the top of her head. "O, you could never lose me." She wiped at the stray tear that slipped down her cheek. "You're my best friend. I love you."

"You're my best friend." She turned her head, wiping at her cheek again. "But is it a bad thing that we're each other's best friends?"

"No, I don't think there is anything wrong with considering your sibling to be your best friend." He paused. "Although, it probably isn't a good thing that we both have a hard time being friends with anyone else. You've got a lot of girls you hang out with and talk to, but no female friends. I never had a lot of friends in high school, let alone maintained them with my career in acting. I pretty much only talk to Murphy, and he's a douche. I don't think I actually like him much."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe it is time to let other people in."

"Are you talking about just making friends in general or are you talking about Clarke again?" He groaned, pushing her away from his chest.

"I hate you. Get out." He sighed.

"Stop. I'm talking about being friends with Clarke. Do you think you could be friends with her after all of this is done?"

"I don't know, O. She gets on my nerves a lot, but sometimes she's fun to hang out with." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe we could be friends?"

"That's all I was asking for, big brother." Octavia said with a smile before she pressed a kiss to Bellamy's cheek.


	12. Chapter 12

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: This jumps ahead a few weeks from where we left off. This means that it is mid-December now. There will be another author's note at the end of this chapter where I kind of want to get your opinions about, so don't forget to read that part and leave your opinions in a review. It's got spoilers from last night's episode, so don't read the second author's note until you've seen it.**

* * *

><p>Clarke rolled her eyes when she saw that <em>E! News<em> had tweeted a link to an article about the status of "Bellarke." She clicked on the link, and she saw that there three paragraphs about the possible dissolution of the Bellarke romance.

_Is there trouble in paradise for Bellarke? Three weeks ago, before every airing of the third movie in the _Grounders_ franchise aired a four minute clip about a contest in which one lucky lady would get to _Win a Date with **Bellamy Blake**_. Hundred of thousands of hopeful women entered the competition, and the fortunate woman turned out to be a blast from Blake's past, __**Clarke Griffin**__, a well-known artist that goes by CEG from the Los Angeles area. Reports came in that Griffin was actually an old high school flame and that the competition was rigged. The reports that the two used to be romantically linked were debunked by both Blake and Griffin's representations, but it _was_ admitted that __**Octavia Blake**__ did rig the competition in order for Griffin to win, just for a few laughs at her older brother's expense, like little sisters are known to do. (I know I do that with my older sibs!)_

_Things appeared to be going great for the two, because they were photographed holding hands during their date at the popular _Spacewalk_, a club in Downtown LA, as well as spending the Thanksgiving holiday together at Griffin's with a large group of people. The two had a number of public Twitter conversations, lunch dates, and adorable hangout sessions, but over the last week and a half, there's been relative radio silence between the two of them. Neither one of them have been involved in their social media pages, aside from the occasional retweet on both their parts. No one has seen or heard from Bellarke, and people are starting to get nervous that the romance is dunzo._

_Many people are crying that it was all a publicity stunt, and that the two of them were never together after all. Others are devastated that two of them could have broken up. While it was never confirmed that the two of them were dating, with Blake himself tweeting the son of the former __**Congressman Jaha**__, __**Wells Jaha**__, that Griffin was not his girlfriend, despite Jaha calling her that. I personally think that these real life Ken and Barbie are the real deal. I hope like hell that these two haven't called it quits, because I ship Bellarke _so hard_. Let us know in the comments what you think the deal is about Bellarke. Are they real? Are they over?_

She had just gotten back from getting her hair, makeup, manicure, pedicure, leg, underarm, and bikini wax done in the hotel spa and salon. She had returned to her room and sat on the edge of her bed, turning on a movie on the television, before getting on Twitter. She needed to continue to get ready for the night, because the limo was going to be picking her up in under an hour for the children's cancer benefit. She exited out of the link on her phone before opening a text to Bellamy.

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:03 PM  
>Apparently we've broken up<em>

She grabbed her lotion, squirting some into her palm before she began to rub it into the skin on her legs. Her skin felt instantly cooler, and the soft scent of lavender was calming. The tranquility of massaging the sweet smelling lotion into her skin was disturbed by the buzzing of her phone, indicating a text message.

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:06 PM_

_What?_

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:07 PM_

_E news tweeted a story about how you and I might have broken up because we haven't spent much time with each other these last two weeks_

Clarke returned lotioning her skin. She moved on to her arms, massaging the lotion into her skin. She closed her eyes as she did so, trying to drown out the rest of the world. Then, her phone buzzed again.

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:08 PM_

_Maybe one of us needs to stop being a popular artist who goes art shows for kids cancer benefits_

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:08 PM_

_What are you doing right now? Don't you have to leave soon?_

She smirked as she began rubbing some lotion into the skin of her stomach, chest, and breasts. She was dressed only in a lace black thong that would leave no panty-lines under her dress. She used one hand to massage the lotion into her stomach and used the other to text Bellamy back.

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:09 PM_

_Standing in my room in my undies with no bra on putting on lavender scented lotion and perfume_

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:09 PM_

_Pics or it didn't happen_

Bellamy's response came almost instantly after Clarke's, and she rolled her eyes. She glanced at herself in the mirror, taking in her smoky eye makeup and the light pink of her cheeks and lips. Her blonde hair was straightened and pulled up into a elegant braided chignon on the back of her head. She shrugged, angling her phone so that she could snap a picture of her bare stomach, her fingers splayed across from him. She looked at the picture before sending it, chuckling to herself when she saw there was the briefest hint of the underside of her right breast and a few centimeters of sheer black lace of her underwear. She knew that she shouldn't be sending him such a picture, but the irrational part of her brain was never really present when she interacted with him. She sent the picture and set her phone aside. She grabbed her perfume and sprayed a little on the inside of her wrist, on the space just under her ear where it met her jaw, and between her breasts. She heard the buzzing of her phone, but instead of stopping after a few short buzzes, it kept going, indicating a phone call.

"Hey, Bellamy." She said, putting the call on speakerphone.

"That was mean. Very mean." His deep voice came out kind of heavy and scratchy over the phone, and she briefly let her eyes shut before she opened them again (because he sounded beyond sexy, not that she'd ever admit that to him, because his ego was big enough), reaching for her deodorant to apply it to her underarms.

"You wanted proof." She said nonchalantly as she set the deodorant aside. She reached for her dress and began to step into it.

"Was that boob?" Clarke chuckled as she tugged the dress up over her hips. She slid her arms into the armholes, shifting the front of the dress against her chest. She studied herself in the mirror, taking in how elegant and simple the front of the dress was, black with a sweetheart neckline that hugged her curves and flared slightly at the bottom. The armholes were thin, satin circles that left her back completely bare, hence her being braless. "Seriously, I saw slight boob."

"You're a child. Yes, that was the underside of my right breast." She said as she studied her appearance. She looked damn good.

"_Fuck_, Clarke." She laughed again, taking the phone off speakerphone and lifted it to her ear.

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're _mean_. I'm now fantasizing about what the rest of your boobs look like now. Don't get me started on the black lace panties."

"Thong, actually."

"Fuck…" Bellamy's throaty groan made her blush. She sat down on the bed, grabbing her black strappy stilettos and began putting them on her feet.

"I'm almost ready. Want to see a picture?" She heard his grunt, which she took as an affirmative. She moved the phone away from her ear and opened her camera app. She snapped a picture of the front of her before turning around to snap a picture of herself over her shoulder, showing off her exposed back. She then sent the images to him in a text message. She heard the dinging noise of his phone receiving the images over the call.

"Shit, you look amazing."

"Thanks." She smiled genuinely, grabbing her black clutch bag. She slid in a couple of twenties (you never knew if you'd need to have some cash on you), along with her lip gloss, into the clutch. The last thing that would go into her bag would be her phone, but she was still using it. She walked over to the dresser in the room. She picked up the silver necklace with a single, opaque cream-colored pearl in one hand. "I'm gonna put the phone down for a second. Have to finish with the jewelry."

"Okay." She set her phone down, putting on the necklace, along with its matching earrings (a single cream-colored opaque pearl) and a silver chain bracelet on her right wrist that had three dangling cream-colored pearls hanging from it. She then picked the phone up again.

"I'm back." She sat down on the edge of the bed, stretching her legs out.

"Are you by yourself tonight? Or is Kate going to be there?"

"Kate didn't make the trip this weekend. She's home in LA with Wells. It's just me. I don't really need her tonight, since all of the artwork is being sold in a silent auction. Everyone puts the number they're willing to spend on a card in a black box in front of the painting or sculpture that they want, and the bids are tallied. The highest bidder wins. I'm here to peruse the art, maybe make a bid or two myself, and to rub elbows with the rich and famous of San Francisco."

"If I had known you were going all by yourself, I would've come with you. Then, nobody would fear that Bellarke was broken up." She studied the French manicure on her fingers, except instead of white, she had used black tips on her nails to match her dress. "Plus, I look dashing in a tux. We'd be the hottest couple there."

"No, it's good that I came alone. We have to leave people wondering if we're friends or something more. We spent a lot of time together in the first week and a half since we reconnected. The last week and a half has been to do our own things with our careers."

"Speaking of careers, the bigwigs_ love_ Bellarke. They've officially sent the Gage-stays-alive version of the script."

"What?" Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, right, you don't know. The whole reason why Kane was pushing for a contest win was because my recreational activities led the studio heads at _Lions Gate_ to get kind of ticked off at me. They had the writers write an alternate script in which they completely deviate from the books' plot by killing off Gage in the first fifteen minutes of part two of the final movie."

"Ah, and you needed good press, and a date with a good-girl-fan would give you good press."

"Until America finds out that the good girl that was picked was a girl I hated in high school and would get into loud, verbal altercations with almost daily, and then America begins to suspect that it's all bullshit."

"Therefore, we were required to enter into a fake relationship in order to avoid bad press."

"Right. Exactly."

"I'm sorry that the studio people were trying to kill off Gage, so I'm glad that you got the _right_ script. How is it?"

"Terrible but good."

"I don't think that's possible."

"No, its good, but it's heavy on the scene directions, because this film is primarily war, fighting, and sex scenes with very little conversation between the characters. Crystal and Gage have _a lot _of sex. I don't know how they're going to pass this movie off for teens and young adults without people making a big stink."

"Lots of sex, huh?" She mused, squeezing the phone between her cheek and her shoulder to scratch on the inside of her right wrist. When she realized what she was doing, she immediately stopped herself.

"Yeah, well, it's more like heated making out with shots of Roma's bare back and heavy breathing while pretending to gyrate against each other. God, sex scenes in movies are so _not_ sexy. They're choreographed and uncomfortable and awful."

"Poor baby." She chuckled, smoothing a stray hair back into place.

"I'm serious."

"I believe it. What about that other movie that Kane is pushing you to take? Any word on that?"

"The gladiator movie? I think I might do it, but I'm not a hundred percent yet."

"What's keeping you from diving head first into it? You're a total history nerd. You'd love playing that role, and you know it."

"It's not that. It's more that I'm tired. I worked a lot over the last five years. I've made six popular movies in the action genre. This has been the longest stretch of time between filming, learning lines, and ten-hour physical training days that I've had since I got _The Grounders_. I'm burnt out. Do you know what I mean?"

"With acting in general or just action films? Because, honestly, I don't blame you for feeling burnt out with both, but especially with the action films. Ten-hour workouts a day?"

"For months at a time. Movies with sword fighting? Have to learn the proper techniques for holding the sword, swinging the sword, etc. Movies where I'm a soldier? I literally trained with retired marines in three-month boot camp to understand what it was like to be a marine. The list goes on and on." He sighed. "I guess it's mainly acting in action films, but maybe it is both. I don't know. I'm just…"

"Burnt out." Clarke said softly, and Bellamy hummed in response. "And bored."

"What do you mean?"

"You would text me literally ten times a day with these exact words: 'I'm bored.' Even after we hung out for three hours earlier that day or if we were scheduled to hang out later that evening. If it weren't for the fact that I had to work on my paintings and prepare for this show, you would've been up my butt the last week and a half, too."

"Sorry. I'll stop texting you so much."

"No, wait. Don't be mad at me for saying that. I'm not...I didn't say I had an issue with it." She bit her bottom lip, shifting the phone slightly. "What I meant was this: you're bored right now, because you _don't_ have something to do. You said it yourself, this has been your longest stretch of time off in a long time, and I think it goes well beyond the five years you've been acting. In high school, you worked, played football, partied, dated, took care of your baby sister, and made my life a living hell. I'm not sure what happened during the time after you graduated from high school and moving to LA, but I'm assuming there was a lot of working and caring for your sister involved then, too."

"Yeah, well, we didn't have a lot of money, and my mom was always busy working, trying to keep food on the table, so someone needed to look out for O."

"Your devotion to your sister-to your mom, too-it's admirable, as is your hard work. I think you're not used to working, and I think the physical roles in movies have become a crutch for you, because they take the most time and energy. You don't need to worry about money anymore, but how you grew up stays with you until you're old and gray. Not working is killing you. Just like no longer needing to be a parent _and_ a brother for your younger sister is killing you. You'll always see Octavia as being your baby sister who needs you to watch after her. She's all grown up, and that is hard for you to handle."

"You a shrink all of a sudden?"

"Well, every doctor goes through training in psychiatry during med school, but that's more about how medications can balance the human brain and body and less about the psychoanalyzing. I guess I just see a lot of myself in what's going on for you. It's different, of course. Our motivations are different. Our methods are different. But in the end, we're very similar."

"I guess that's why we have two dynamics: good conversation where we finally feel like someone else _gets it_ and violent verbal altercations that make us want to ring the other person's neck." She laughed. The phone in the hotel room began to ring. "Do you need to get that?"

"Um, it's probably the front desk calling to tell me that my limo's here."

"Limo, huh? Fancy."

"Yeah, well, I'm classy like that. Hold on." Clarke picked up the hotel phone, leaving her cell phone in her other hand, away from her face. "Hello?"

"Is this Miss Griffin?"

"This is she."

"I'm Robert, the concierge from the front desk. I'm calling to inform you that your driver has arrived and is waiting out front, Miss Griffin."

"Thank you so much."

"I hope you have a pleasant evening."

"You, as well, Robert." She hung up the phone and raised her cell phone back to her cheek. "Well, I'm headed downstairs. I'm not sure when I'll leave tonight. Probably after I get drunk on champagne, because all I will have have eaten is shitty salad with limp lettuce since I don't eat the rubbery chicken they're bound to serve. But when I get back, I'd love to keep talking with you...if you're okay with that?"

"Dude, Princess, it is a Saturday night, and I'm sitting in my boxers with homemade pizza and popcorn, looking at a couple of scripts that people sent me. I think I'm okay with talking to the drunk you when you get back."

"Pictures or it didn't happen," Clarke joked, repeating Bellamy's words from his text message back to him. His chuckle was deep and throaty-and over entirely too soon, in her opinion. "Okay, good. Um, I want to keep talking about the acting thing, okay?" She could practically hear his eye roll.

"Only if you send me pics of you undressing yourself from that dress." She snorted.

"Goodbye, Bellamy." She hung up her phone and shoved it into the clutch purse. She made her way to the elevator. As she exited the elevator, her phone buzzed in her bag, and she pulled it out to see that he had tweeted the two pictures she had sent to him of her in the dress.

_KINGBBlake: I mean c'mon (heart eyes emoji) (heart eyes emoji) (heart eyes emoji) clarkeEgrif is in SF looking like this & I'm not there (disappointed face emoji) #gorgeous #princess (princess emoji) (crown emoji)_

She rolled her eyes, retweeting it before responding with her own.

_clarkeEgrif: KINGBBlake I bet you'd look fabulous in a tux (winking emoji) thanks, handsome. I'll be back in LA soon (kissing emoji with heart)_

Moments later, Clarke received a text with a picture of Bellamy smirking at the camera in just a pair of tight black boxer briefs, food and several packets of paper littering the coffee table in front of him. The caption with the photo was just a winking emoji. She rolled her eyes and screenshotted the image. As the limo headed towards the event, she cropped the image to get rid of her nearly nude picture that she had sent to him. _That_ couldn't get leaked if she ever tweeted the picture of him in his boxers. (He'd done a Calvin Klein underwear spread, as well as a Joe Boxer spread, before, so a shot in his boxers was not going to hurt his career at all.)

* * *

><p>Four hours of torture. Four hours of walking around and staring at pretty art, making insufferable small talk with rich assholes who thought that they were God's gift to the rest of the world. Four hours of eating crappy hospital food (at least there were some vegan dishes that she could pick at, but they still tasted like shit) and drinking likely two bottles of champagne herself. Four hours of bidding on a few art pieces that she liked, but not bidding nearly enough to actually win them. Four hours of hell before she was back in her limo on the way to the hotel once more. Thankfully, the ride was short, and it took barely forty minutes from her exiting the hospital to entering her hotel room. The second she got into her room, she was kicking off her shoes, tossing her clutch aside, with her phone pressed to her cheek.<p>

"How drunk are you right now?" Bellamy's voice flowed through the phone after only a few rings.

"Surprisingly not that drunk. They had a couple of crappy vegan dishes that I forced myself to consume to soak up the two bottles of champagne I drank."

"Ahh, sounds like a perfect night." She rolled her eyes.

"The best night." She moved to the dresser, putting the phone on speaker. "You're on speaker."

"What are you doing right now that requires both hands."

"Nothing dirty. About to take off my jewelry and the like."

"Hold on, I'm gonna facetime you." The call disconnected, before moments later, her phone began vibrating once more.

Clarke accepted the call with an eye roll. "Hi," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. She reached up to unlatch her necklace, clasping it once again before laying it on the dresser.

"Is it supposed to be sexy to see a woman take her jewelry off, or do I really need to get laid?" She cocked an eyebrow at the tiny screen, seeing him chuckle in response. She removed the back of one of her earrings, pulling the pearl from her ear.

"I think you need to get laid."

"Are you offering?" She pursed her lips and glared at him. "Fuck, what's the point of this whole relationship bullshit then if you don't get laid regularly?"

"Well, maybe you should be in a real relationship then." She shook her head as she removed her other earring.

"Nah. Relationships and girlfriends are too exhausting. The best part of relationships is sex, which I can get without being in one." She rolled her eyes.

"That sounds lonely to me." She chewed on her bottom lip. "My favorite part of being in a relationship is being able to talk about my day with someone else and to hear about that other person's day, as well, while we are sitting next to each other on the couch. I love holding hands with someone or seeing the person's face light up when they talk about something that makes them happy or really makes the feel something. I love seeing the person's passion-it makes me happy." She shook her head, looking back at the screen of her phone. She blushed when she noticed he was studying her. "RIght, well, that was my nerdy opinion on relationships. The sex part is great, too, so...yeah." She licked at her bottom lip. "Anyways, tonight was the worst."

"Yeah?" Clarke silently thanked Bellamy for going with her subject change. "Did you buy anything?"

"No, I didn't. I didn't bid high enough." She frowned, shrugging one of her shoulders as she reached up with her other hand to start pulling bobby pins from her hair. "Four hours of bullshit smalltalk with pompous assholes who have bigger egos than you. I didn't think that was possible."

"Could you imagine how much fun you and I could've had together at this shindig?" He joked. She continued to pull the pins from her hair and steadily more and more of her blonde locks fell onto her shoulders. She sighed, her eyes drifting shut as she ran her fingers through her hair once it was completely loosened from the chignon. "We talked about you making noises like that, Clarke. You gotta stop that shit." She glanced down at the phone again, pulling her hands from her hair.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she opened the drawer of the dresser to pull out her pajamas for the evening: an old Stanford t-shirt and a pair of plaid shorts. She placed them on the dresser out of the range of the phone so that they could still see each other.

"The sighs, the soft moans...all of it...it's distracting." She blushed, looking away from him.

"I didn't realize I was making noises right now. Sometimes it's intentional, because it's fun to mess with you, but, most of the time, it isn't." She ran her finger over the dresser, feeling the smooth brush of the wood, trying to use the rhythmic movement to stabilize her heartbeat.

"Yeah, well, it drives me insane." His voice was tight. "What's next in the process of coming home from the party?"

"Changing." She bent over slightly, reaching under the skirt of her dress, feeling thankful that he wouldn't be able to see what she was doing due to the phone leaning against the mirror on an angle that only caught her top half, not what was happening below the dresser. She pulled her thong off, bending over to grab it from the floor. Again, the rational part of her brain vacated her head, because she held the fabric off of her index finger and waved it in front of the front of her phone.

"Fuck, seriously? You fight dirty."

"Remind me to play strip poker with you sometime."

"Why? Are you a good player? Are you trying to get me to undress in front of you, because, Princess, I already told you that I'm down to fuck whenever you want. Besides, I texted you a picture. It's customary to sext something else back." She shook her head at him, grabbing the shorts from the dresser. Once again, she hiked her skirt up while slightly bent over, pulling the shorts on under the dress.

"Actually, I'm a shitty poker player." She winked at him, turning around to face the opposite wall.

"You know I can still see you, right?"

"Yes." She said, sliding her arms out of the armholes of the dress." The top of the dress fell down, leaving the front of her bare. She knew that because she was facing away from him, he couldn't see anything beyond maybe a little side boob. Thankfully, the zipper was on the right side of the dress, so when she shifted her frame slightly, he saw only the wide expanse of her back as she loosened the skirt of the dress by pulling the zipper down. She pushed the dress off her hips completely, leaving her in nothing but the pair of shorts.

"When did you put shorts on?"

"Before I turned around. I pulled them on under my dress."

"I just don't get why you didn't just end the call."

"You wanted pics of the undressing process. I gave you a live-action version." She said, glancing over her shoulder at the phone as she reached behind herself to grab the t-shirt. "Plus, it's fun to mess with you. This is as close to sexting as you're ever going to get. Think of this as a freebie that will never occur again. Also, I may be a just buzzed enough to be this stupid." She pulled the t-shirt on over her head before turning around to pick up her phone. She then made her way towards her bed, sitting down on it to rest into the pillows. "So, let's finish our discussion from earlier."

"Princess, I don't even think I can process anything beyond the fact that you just changed in front of me without me seeing anything. Is that a skill that all girl's have, because I'm not sure I like knowing that, for my sister's sake."

"Yeah, a lot of girls could probably do it and do it well. I'm guess your sister doesn't mind changing in front of people. She's a model. She's modeled swimsuits and underwear and has posed topless to model a pair of jeans. I think she's cool with it." She yawned slightly. "But, we were talking about your career, so let's get back to that."

"How about we save the big important discussions for a time when you're not half-asleep and half-drunk. I vote we go back to getting undressed." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Bellamy, you're such a pig." Clarke yawned again, and Bellamy chuckled at her.

"Go to sleep, Princess. Call me in the morning when you're more awake. Night, Clarke."

"Night, Bell." She said, ending the call. She climbed back off her bed and headed to the bathroom to wash away her makeup and brush her teeth. In under ten minutes, she was back in bed and asleep.

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><p><strong>Author's Note 2: Well, that was a long one. Full of sexy banter, sexy text messages, a cute heart-to-heart, and Clarke looking gorgeous as fuck, because seriously, Eliza…#nuffsaid. ALSO SPOILERS BELOW.<strong>

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**i wanted to many spaces to give you a chance to avoid the spoilers. Don't forget to review, please!**

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><p><strong>Last night's episode revealed that Clarke is bisexual and Clexa is a legit thing. Since that happened, I'm wondering how you all would feel if I wrote this into the story. I originally wrote Lexa as being Lincoln's ex-wife, but I can easily go back and change her name to Anya instead. If I did incorporate a bisexual Clarke and a Clexa romance into this story, it would not be with another actress, because Clarke's relationship with Bellamy (actorartist) is unique to them only. I left Clarke's opinions about relationships ambiguous and gender neutral for a reason, because I was going to follow the the opinions of my readers about whether or not Clarke is bisexual.**

**This story is BELLARKE. Have no doubt about that. Clarke has yet to discuss her relationship history from her four years of undergrad at Stanford. We know of unnamed boyfriends from high school and Finn in med school. If I wrote Clexa into this, Lexa would be Clarke's ex-girlfriend. So, in your review, pick Option A or Option B.  
><strong>

**Option A - Clarke is bisexual and Lexa's her ex-girlfriend.  
><strong>**Option B - Doesn't matter if Clarke is bisexual, but NO CLEXA. Lexa is still Lincoln's ex.**


	13. Chapter 13

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: The results of the poll show that most of you wanted no Clexa past romance, so there won't be one! Apparently, I can count, because the last tally I had was for around 50 for no Clexa, give or take a few, so I'm quite proud of myself. haha**

**I do like that the writers have LGBTQ representation in the show, so the character that I had planned on introducing originally will still be female, but it won't be Lexa. At the time that I began planning this story, it wasn't a female character, but now that the writers are making Clarke bisexual, I do want to keep that as canon. So, the original character I'm going to be introducing as Clarke's ex-girlfriend is Jenna Thomas. The actress that will represent her is Mariah Buzolin.**

**This chapter is all Clarke's POV, and it is heavy on Bellarke, especially at the end. So, enjoy and let me know what you think! **

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><p>Clarke smoothed the gray dress she was in. It fell to her knees and was made of a soft material. She had paired it with a black cardigan and black ballet flats on her feet. It was Christmas Day, and she stared at the large Beverly Hills house in front of her. It was the vacation home of her step-whatever. Daniel Johnson was a very wealthy CEO of a medical technology company that regularly donated money to hospitals like the ones that Abby Griffin was the Chief of Medical at, all in the hopes that they would buy their technical equipment. Abby and Daniel had known each other for years-for at least six <em>prior<em> to Jake Griffin's death-and about a year after Jake's death, Daniel had asked Abby out. The two of them had been together for the last two years, and Clarke thought he was nice enough.

The night before, her mother and her step-whatever had come over for dinner at her apartment. Daniel had commented on how _adorable_ her apartment was, informing her that if she should ever need any financial assistance with moving into another apartment (perhaps a two-bedroom apartment in which she could set up her studio in the second bedroom rather than having a studio loft. Abby had made comments about having to eat a vegan meal. Clarke bit her tongue, because all of her friends, and _even Bellamy_, did so without any complaints. Her mom couldn't even keep her mouth shut for one evening. Clarke bent over and grabbed her purse and the insulated bag she had put on the sidewalk at the edge of the property for the house. After her mother's complaints the night before, she had decided to bring her own meal with her, just in case.

She slowly walked up the walkway to the door, pressing her finger to the bell, hearing the clanging reverberate through the house until the door finally flung open, revealing her mother in a pair of khaki slacks, a white blouse, and a strand of pearls. The hair that framed her face was pulled back, the rest of her light brownish blonde locks hanging down her back. She had her ever-present severe expression on her face.

Clarke could feel the disappointment coming off of Abby in waves. "Hi, Mom." She gave her mother a tight smile. Abby responded in kind, stepping back, allowing her daughter to enter the building. Abby had certainly made herself at home in Daniel's life, Clarke mused to herself. As she entered the house, she was met with the smell of cooking ham, the scent strong and overpowering any other food dish being prepared in the home. It wasn't exactly pleasant to a vegan, but Clarke bit her tongue, ever the bigger person. The door clicked behind her, thanks to Abby pressing against it with both hands. The finality of the door shutting was like Clarke getting caught off from the outside world, trapped within the confines of a house she didn't want to be in on a day that was supposed to be filled with love and joy and family. Since her father had died, Clarke didn't feel the same about holidays with her "family" as she did before his death. It was almost as if her dad was the glue that held the Griffins together, and his death severed any hope of the two Griffin women being able to coexist peacefully. _But_, Abby was her mother, and Clarke _loved_ her, despite her not actually _liking_ her.

"Clarke, sweetheart, what's in the bag?" Abby said, crossing her arms loosely, as if she was attempting to look just casual, not irritated with her daughter.

"Just a few vegan dishes for myself. I didn't want to put anyone out."

"Well, Daniel made you a salad and there are few other dishes that are animal-product free, so…" Clarke nodded her head, refusing to say anything in response. A fucking salad and a few side dishes for dinner? Joy to the world!

She heard soft murmuring and laughter coming from further in the house. Apparently, the rest of the guests were there. Every holiday for as long as she could remember, the Jahas would join the Griffins or the Griffins would join the Jahas at their respective homes. It apparently no different since Jake's death and Abby's relationship with Daniel. Clarke was relieved to know that Kate and Wells were already there, so she had friendly faces to stick with during this terribly awkward evening. Her phone chimed in her purse, and she quickly buried her hand into the pocket to see that she had received an alert from Twitter. She saw that Bellamy had tweeted something. (Yes, she had put his tweets on alert. No, that didn't mean anything as Kate had suggested it had.)

_KINGBBlake: Merry Christmas! Sitting down to dinner w/ my beautiful sister ModelBitchOB, my handsome costar Linc82Trav, & the extended Travers fam (santa emoji) (christmas tree emoji) (present emoji)_

"Clarke, really? You can't go a few minutes into the holiday without being on your phone." Abby said with a reproachful sigh. Clarke tensed her jaw.

"Just wishing Bellamy a Merry Christmas, that's all." Clarke said, giving her mother another tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, right, your _friend_, Bellamy." Clarke licked her bottom lip.

"Boyfriend, Mom. He's my boyfriend." Okay, so they hadn't exactly agreed to ever use that term, but he didn't have family (beyond Octavia and Kane, who both knew the truth), so it wasn't the same as lying to your mother and step-whatever. She figured that he would understand her using the term with her mother.

"Clarke, you _hated_ Bellamy Blake in high school. Do you not remember your graduation day?" Clarke blushed, remembering the way he'd stripped off his graduation gown and tossed it in her face after he'd received his diploma from the principal and moved his tassel. He'd smirked and winked at her, fully nude except for the hat on his head, and then raced down the center aisle, streaking, amongst cheers from their classmates and hisses of indignation from the family and faculty.

"Yes, well, things have changed. _He's_ changed. _I've_ changed." Her thumb quickly traced over the keypad of her phone, sending a text to Bellamy.

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:36 PM_

_Merry Christmas, Bells._

"People don't change that much." Clarke lifted her head from her phone, where her eyes had been trained on the three periods, indicating he was responding to her text.

"You have." She let it hang in the air, turning her heel to head into the kitchen to drop of her food in the fridge and get a glass of wine. As she poured her glass of wine, she returned to her phone, seeing that Bellamy had texted her two messages.

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:36 PM_

_Merry Christmas, Princess._

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:37 PM_

_Octavia and Lincoln send their best to you. O wants to know when you guys were going to go shopping. Apparently you owe her a girls day since you haven't done that yet or something. Please don't go on a friend date with my sister. That's weird._

Clarke rolled her eyes, taking a sip of the white wine, leaning against the counter. She began typing into the phone, texting him her responses.

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:41 PM_

_And mine to both of them. Also, I will dm your sister my number and she and I will set something up soon. I didn't think it would be appropriate for your new sorta gf to hang out with your sister without you after only a few weeks of sorta dating _

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:42 PM_

_But we've been "dating" a month now, so...oh, shit. We didn't do a month anniversary thingy._

She giggled at Bellamy's response.

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:42 PM_

_Do I look like the type to celebrate one month with a girl? FUCK NO._

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:42 PM_

_Are you the type to date one girl for a month straight?_

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:43 PM_

_I'm not the type to go without sex for over a month. I've got serious blue balls._

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:43 PM_

_You've got hands…_

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:43 PM_

_But yours are cuter_

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_7:43 PM_

_Pig_

She rolled her eyes, setting aside her phone for the glass of wine again. "Hey, beautiful." She glanced up, seeing Wells enter the room. His leg had healed nicely since the car accident, and his slight limp was gone finally. She smiled when she saw him, letting him pull her into a tight hug. "What's with the grin?"

"Bellamy apparently has a serious case of blue balls and thinks my hands are cuter, and therefore more apt for the job of taking care of his misfortunate circumstances."

"Pun intended?" She giggled when she realized what she had said.

"Yes." She heard her phone buzz beside her.

"Your mom is irritated that you haven't returned to the living room. We can all tell, but no one is saying anything. Ever the passive aggressive group." He said with an eye roll.

"Is Kate ready to kill herself?"

"Nah, she's actually doing well. She's holding her own against the Governor." Clarke laughed.

"I"m proud of her."

"Me, too." He took the glass from her hand and took a sip. "How are you?"

"I miss my dad," she said simply, taking the glass back. He nodded his head, leaning against the counter beside her. "I wish that he was here. I always felt like he was on my side."

"I'm on your side."

"Yeah, but…"

"It's not the same." She shook her head. "I get it, Clarke. Losing a parent sucks. I miss my mom everyday." She squeezed his hand in hers.

"Your mom was a good person." He sniffed and smiled at her.

"Your dad was a good person, too." She leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Should I be worried?" Kate's voice made them both jump before laughing at their own stupid reaction. Wells held his hand out to her, and the redhead came over, immediately enveloped into a hug by him and Clarke. "You left me alone for too long. That Indra lady is giving me a death stare. Dr. Griffin, would you check me over for wounds?" She joked.

"Indra's here?" Clarke said in surprise. She didn't expect that Indra Spenkle would be at a family holiday with the Jahas, the Griffins, Kate, and Daniel. She hadn't seen Indra since Wells had decided that he was over having babysitters as an adult, so he had told his father in no uncertain terms that his bodyguards _had to go_. Indra and Gustus were told that their services were no longer needed, and Indra had been reassigned to Thelonious' guards, and Gustus had retired to Florida.

Wells sighed, pulling out his phone, tapping at it a little. He then turned it to her gaze. She saw that he had opened his Twitter app and clicked on his latest tweet. She snorted, pressing her hand to her mouth.

_JAHAoliness: The awkward moment when your dad says he's marrying one of the bodyguards he assigned to you in undergrad #christmas2014_

"Oh, wow." She grabbed her phone, pressing the round button on it, not even looking at Bellamy's text from about ten minutes before, focusing instead on opening her Twitter app to retweet Wells' tweet. "I have to go tell Thelonious and Indra congratulations." She said, grabbing her glass of wine, waiting for Wells and Kate to grab their own. While she did so, she looked at her last text from Bellamy.

_From: Bellamy Blake_

_7:44 PM_

_But I'm your pig (winking emoji) (pig face emoji) (pig nose emoji) (pig emoji) _

They headed toward the living room where Thelonious had his arm thrown casually over the back of the couch, behind Indra's frame. Indra was sitting with a straight back, her face a mask of indifference like always. Thelonious Jaha and Indra Spenkle-a match made in heaven? Clarke smiled warmly at the both of them. "I hear congratulations are in order! What a Merry Christmas indeed!" She crowed. Both Thelonious and Indra stood. Thelonious gave her a warm half-hug and a kiss on the cheek. Indra gave her a nod, a sign of her respect for Clarke. The two of them had hardly spoken in all of the years that they'd known each other (a total of five before Wells put an end to having a bodyguard), but their relationship had always been one of mutual respect. Clarke respected Indra, because she took her job so seriously. Indra respected Clarke, because she was wise, courteous, and willing to sacrifice her own personal life to ensure that she accomplished top marks in her pre-med program (and had pushed Wells to do the same in his pre-law program).

Clarke pulled away from the happy couple to say her hellos to Daniel. "Daniel, it's good to see you again. Merry Christmas." She gave him a quick hug before nodding to her mother. She then took in the appearance of an Asian woman, slim but muscular, dressed in all black, and an attractive man, dressed similarly. His muscles were defined beneath his dark long-sleeved shirt. "Hi, I'm Clarke." She said.

"Clarke, these are my bodyguards, Anya and Elias." Clarke smiled at them both, trying to hide her confusion over why Thelonious still had bodyguards. He hadn't been a governor in quite some time. Frankly, not too many people cared about the former Governor anymore.

* * *

><p>Clarke was seated uncomfortably between Elias, his blond hair slicked back in a way that she decided was entirely too smarmy, and Kate, who gripped her hand under the table. The way that her mother's eyes lit up as she guided Elias to sit at the table beside her daughter, and her casual questioning of Elias' family and education and future aspirations, made it clear to everyone present that she was trying to force a connection between Clarke and him. Apparently, the hired bodyguard of Thelonious Jaha was a better love match for Clarke Griffin than actor Bellamy Blake. She gave tight smiles every time Elias spoke, shooting her an irritating smile as he shifted closer to her.<p>

She heard the buzzing of her phone in the purse she had left on her lap, and she wondered who could possibly be texting her at this moment. Everytime she glanced down at her lap, her mom would shoot her a tense glare, and she would just shift the bag in her lap, crossing and uncrossing her legs in irritation. Finally, the dinner was over, and she was sufficiently disgusted by the mating dance her mother was going through, she was able to sneak a glance at her phone to see that Wells hate tweeted something, tagging her in it, and that there were a number of responses to the tweet. How in the hell did Wells and Kate get to tweet at dinner? Oh, right, all focus was on her and Elias.

_JAHAoliness: Even more awkward moment...Clarke's mom trying to set her up w/ one of my dad's current bodyguards #christmas2014 clarkeEgrif_

_KTWebber: JAHAoliness clarkeEgrif seriously the weirdest dinner of my life #christmas2014_

_KINGBBlake: JAHAoliness clarkeEgrif um...seriously? I haven't even met Mama Grif yet & she already hates me_

_KTWebber: KINGBBlake JAHAoliness clarkeEgrif dude's got nothing on you...he's creepy_

_JAHAoliness: KTWebber KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif beyond creepy. like murderous stalker kind of creepy…_

_ModelBitchOB: JAHAoliness KTWebber KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif so he's like MurphyJohn ? (laughing crying emoji)_

_MurphyJohn: ModelBitchOB JAHAoliness KTWebber KINGBBlake clarkeEgrif FUCK OFF octavia. who the fuck are these other asshats?_

Clarke sighed, shoving her phone into her person. They'd all moved to the living room to continue drinking and talking, and it was clear that Elias was now putting the moves on Clarke a little more heavily to everyone in the room. There was an air of discomfort swirling, and she refused to even look at her mother. They hadn't had dessert yet, so it wasn't even okay for Clarke to make her exit.

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><p>Clarke had to deal with another hour of awkward conversation, dodging weird touches and creepy smiles from Elias. Her stomach was swirling, threatening to dump her dinner everywhere. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. Her wrist was burning with the desire to itch, but she kept her hands tightened into fists in her lap. She wasn't going to give into her anxiety. The doorbell rang, shocking all of them. Who in the hell was ringing the doorbell on Christmas night? Daniel excused himself to head to the door to see who it was.<p>

He came back a few moments later, a shocked expression on his face, clutching a bottle of wine in his hands. "Um, Clarke, you have a visitor." He stepped aside, and in came Bellamy Blake, like a goddamn dark knight (attaching the image of a white knight to him would be too much, she thought to herself), a wide smile on his face. She heard her mother's indignant gasp from nearby, but she was too busy being swept up in Bellamy's arms, barely having time to pass her wine glass off to Kate.

She could have wept over how happy she was to see him, burying her face into his neck, hands gripping the underside of his upper arms like he would disappear if she released him. His one arm was wrapped around her waist and his other was carding through the hair at the base of her skull. He pulled her face from his neck to brush his lips over hers in a quick greeting before he pulled back. "Hey, Princess. Merry Christmas." She bit her bottom lip, nodding her head in thanks for his saving her, yet again on a holiday, when he didn't have to.

"Bell, what are you doing here?" She whispered in surprise, and he nodded his head in the direction of Wells, who was seated beside Kate. She smiled at Wells in thanks, before turning her focus back on the man in front of her, his arm still wrapped tightly around her waist.

"We finished up dinner at Lincoln's a little while ago, and since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I would stop by on the way back to mine. Octavia and Lincoln say Merry Christmas once again." She nodded her head.

"I thought we were going to meet up tomorrow night." She said, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Yeah, well, I had your present in my car anyways, and I missed you, so...I figured that I'd stop in tonight. Are you happy to see me?" She nodded her head immediately.

"Of course." She pulled away from him, pulling him by the hand to her mother a few feet away. "Mom, this is Bellamy. Bellamy, this is my mom, Abby Griffin." Bellamy pulled his hand from hers, slapping a sincere smile on his face as he shook hands with Abby.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Griffin. Well, officially. I think I remember seeing you around a few times during high school."

"Yes, I distinctly remember you from Clarke's graduation." Bellamy, at least, had the decency to blush, and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

"Yeah, that was not my best moment." He said with an uncomfortable smile. "I was a stupid kid, then. I'd like to think I've wised up a bit since." He glanced over at Clarke. "At least enough to make her reconsider her opinion of me."

Clarke shook her head at him, amused by the charm oozing out of him. He really was a good actor. She rolled her eyes at him, before turning him towards Daniel, who had returned to the living room, sans wine bottle. "Let me officially introduce you to Daniel Johnson, my mother's partner." Bellamy smiled, shaking Daniel's hand.

"Sir." She guided him to Thelonious Jaha and Indra Spenkle. "Governor Jaha." He grinned at the older man, once again, oozing charm. Jaha grinned brightly at him, disregarding his handshake to pull Bellamy into a hug.

"I love your movies, son. You're a phenomenal actor. Plus, I admire your charity work." Jaha was the easiest for Bellamy to smooth over? Seriously? Clarke wasn't expecting that. "And, to let you in on a secret, I was always amused by the incident at Clarke's graduation." His eyes flashed in merriment. "The things that Jake, Clarke's father, and I would get up to when we were kids! We were constantly embarrassing Abby and Tabitha, my wife." He turned to Clarke was a somber smile. "Your father would approve of your choices in romantic partners." Clarke blushed, ignoring the throaty chuckle from Bellamy, and the way he squeezed her hip.

"Dad was the most ridiculous and easily amused man in the world. It wouldn't surprise me if he liked this jackass." She said, elbowing Bellamy in the side. He grunted, pulling her into a tight hug against his side.

"That was mean, Princess." She rolled her eyes at him, and he just smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Bellamy, this is Indra Spenkle. She's Thelonious' fiancee and Wells' former bodyguard. If you continue to be irritating, know that she is probably willing to kill you and get rid of your body so that no one would ever know where to find it." She grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes at her, pulling his hand free, but still keeping her pinned to his side with the other, to shake Indra's hand.

"Ms. Spenkle, it is lovely to meet you. Congratulations to both you and Governor Jaha on the engagement." She smiled at him, shaking his hand firmly. Clarke giggled at the way that Bellamy shook his hand slightly afterwards. Indra had a tough grip. "Wells, Kate, good to see you both again."

"Handsome," Kate winked, making Wells sigh.

"Stop flirting with Blake in front of me." He said with a head shake and a smile. "I'm glad you could make it, Bellamy."

"I appreciate the invite and that you kept it a surprise from Clarke." Bellamy said as he shook Wells' hand. He then turned his gaze on Elias and Anya. "I'm Bellamy, Clarke's boyfriend." She almost shit herself when she heard those words exit his mouth. She bit on her bottom lip to keep from gasping or making some type of shocked noise that would give away the fact that she was surprised by his willingness to label himself as her boyfriend. Elias narrowed his eyes before storming off. "What did I say?" Bellamy asked no one in particular before turning to Clarke. "Can I steal you away?" She nodded her head. "Excuse us."

* * *

><p>Five minutes later, Bellamy and Clarke were seated on a bench by the koi pond in Daniel's backyard, surrounded by white Christmas lights and sweet smelling plants. She could feel the eyes of her mother from the glass in the living room, but she tried her best to ignore it, focusing instead on Bellamy.<p>

"Thank you, thank you, _thank you_. " She said, shifting to press her lips against his cheek. He chuckled, looking down at his feet, pulling her hand between his. He tangled their fingers, using the other hand to stroke his fingertips along the back of her hand and up her wrist slightly.

"Wells and Kate were saying you were so uncomfortable with that guy, and I dunno, I just...since I stopped protecting O as much, my protectiveness has to go somewhere, so you're getting the brunt of it now." He rambled, and she smiled, leaning against his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

"How did you know where Daniel's house was?"

"Wells DM'ed me the address. O knew what was going on, so she and Lincoln all but pushed me out the door. I wasn't lying, though, when I said I had your gift in the car. I had it hidden in the glovebox, because I didn't want to forget it for when you and I met up tomorrow."

"I don't have yours." She frowned, squeezing his hand.

"That's okay. I'll get it from you tomorrow." He raised her hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

"I had a hard time figuring out what to get you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, what does one get her fake boyfriend?" She joked. "What did you get me?" He dug the hand that wasn't clutching hers into his pocket and pulled out a black box. A jewelry box. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, my gift is shitty in comparison." She breathed. "I can't take this, Bell."

"Yes, you can." He opened the box, revealing a pretty silver necklace with an oval stone that was lined with diamonds. The stone itself was a medium grayish-blue color with swirls of bright colors. The stone resembled the swirling skyline of Van Gogh's _Starry Night_ in her opinion, because there was such bright yellow and green-blues, with small splashes of orange and red.

"Bellamy, this is gorgeous." She ran her finger over the stone.

"It's a black opal. I picked it because it made me think of your paintings, especially your more abstract ones, with all those bright splashes of color. Oh, and the diamonds are conflict free, too. I thought that would make you happy." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, tangling her hand in the hair at the back of his neck.

Clarke knew that she shouldn't be kissing Bellamy like this. She doubted that her mother was still watching them, because it would be rude to ignore her guests, so it was really just the two of them. She couldn't stop herself from kissing him, though, because this was such a beautiful and sweet gift. It was a better gift than any other gift she'd received in past relationships. She felt his mouth open to hers, giving her permission to deepen the kiss if she wanted. She heard the click of the box shutting. She felt his hand shove it back into his pocket, while the other cupped her cheek.

She knew that she should pull back, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from combing her tongue over his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth. His immediately met hers, and the kiss was as deep as it had been the first time they'd kiss. They were just as caught up in this kiss as they were in that one-a kiss that, like this one, was just between the two of them. She hummed softly into the kiss, because he was such a fucking good kisser. His other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer to his body.

Eventually, air became a problem, and she pulled her lips free, resting her forehead against his. She took her time opening her eyes, because she knew that the moment she took in his appearance, it would break the spell, and they'd be brought back to reality where they shouldn't be kissing like that, where this was all a fake relationship for good press. "Clarke," she heard the huskiness of his voice, and she squeezed her eyes even tighter shut.

"No," she said, her voice almost as deep and scratchy as his. "If I open my eyes, I will have to acknowledge that we crossed a line." She said whispered. He brushed his lips against hers again before pulling away from her completely. Her eyes opened when his hands fell away from her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Princess." He gave her a weird smile, digging his hand into his pocket to pull the box out again. "Should I put this on you now, or...?" She nodded her head, turning away from him, gathering her hair into one hand over her shoulder. Her eyes fell shut when she felt the stone hit her chest and his fingers brushed against her neck as he clasped it. When he released the necklace, he ran his fingers over her neck, placing a kiss to the skin just below her ear.

"Bell," she said softly, and he rested his forehead against her shoulder.

"I should go before I insist on driving you home now to take you to bed." He said, clearing his throat.

"At this point, it's taking everything in me to _not_ fuck you in your car, so…" He growled, _literally growled_, pulling away from her.

"Clarke, you can't say shit like that to me. You're supposed to make a joke about how I've got a hand or some shit."

"It's no secret that I find you attractive, Bellamy." She said turning to face him again. "But we just got caught up in the moment." He nodded his head, running a hand through his hair. She laid a hand on his shoulder. He smiled at her.

"I'm fine. I'm good. I need a drink, though." She laughed, standing up. She held her hand out to him. He slid his hand into hers, their fingers tangling. "So, what did you get me?"

"Nothing as nearly as nice as this." She frowned, using her free hand to run her fingers over the opal. "Do you want me to tell you, or would you rather open it?"

"Eh, you can tell me about it."

"I got you a nice watch and a bottle of really good bourbon." He pulled her by the hand into his chest and leaned down to press another light kiss to her lips.

"I love bourbon." He said, pulling back, making her chuckle and smack his chest.

"Stop teasing. I know my gift sucks in comparison to this." She smiled down at her necklace. "I love it, Bellamy. It's stunning."

"It's, like, a thank you for being awesome about doing this for me. You've gone above and beyond. As for your gift, I'm not teasing. I don't have a watch, so I greatly appreciate it. Maybe I won't be late all the time. And, bourbon, fuck, I love bourbon." She smiled at him, rolling her eyes slightly.

"I know you love bourbon." She pulled him inside, guiding him to the cabinet where Daniel stored all of his alcohol. "Speaking of bourbon." She poured them both a drink, holding her glass up to him. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Princess," he tapped his glass to hers. They both raised the glasses to their lips, eyes locked as they took a sip.

"Clarke, honey, we're going to have dessert. Bellamy, would you like to stay for dessert?" Abby's voice made them to break eye contact, and Clarke glanced over her shoulder at her mother. Her eyes widened when she took in the necklace hanging from Clarke's neck. "Oh, my. Is that...that's a lovely present." She glanced between the two of them, nodding her head. "We're eating in the dining room. I will set you a place, Bellamy."

"Thank you, Mrs. Griffin."

"Why don't you call me Abby?" She said, slipping from the room. Clarke swallowed, because it took a long time for Abby to say those words to Finn and every other person she'd dated in the past, but Bellamy being in the house for barely a half an hour, she was already going from trying to set her up on a date with Thelonious' bodyguard to practically saying "welcome to the family."

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded his head. "Abby." She slipped from the room, and Clarke bit her lip as she looked up at him. "What's wrong? That was good, right? She's not going to keep trying to hook you up with randoms anymore, right?"

"That was as close to her saying 'when's the wedding, and do you want three kids or four' as you could possibly get." She chugged the rest of her drink before filling the glass once more. "It took my mom nearly a year to let Finn call her Abby."

"Oh…"

"Yeah…" He nodded his head before chugging the rest of his own drink. He then filled it to nearly the top, before nodding his head towards where Abby had disappeared.

"So, dessert?" He said with his voice tight. She nodded her head, following him from the room.


	14. Chapter 14

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake

Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.**

**Author's Note: I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. It was primarily a filler chapter, told from Clarke's POV. It's the chapter where I introduce Thalia, Glass, and Glass. This chapter is setting up the next chapter, which will delve further into Clarke's relationships with Thalia, Glass, and Lilly, as well as provide some real movement towards a Bellarke romance. **

**Also, you know what's weird? I've inadvertently written Clarke as having a type, so I, of course, have to write this into the story. It wasn't intentional to do this, but I love that it happened, because it is a happy coincidence that makes for a great LOL moment. **

**The actress I chose to represent Jenna has tan skin with dark hair and eyes. I knew I wanted her to have dark hair (Clarke, Lilly, and Glass are all blonde, so I needed to find another brunette actress to break up the stream of blondes), so I looked at a IMDB list of brunette actresses, and Mariah was on the list. I thought she was pretty, so I picked her to be Jenna. I had pictures of the four actresses on open internet tabs, and I was looking for the one of actress I chose as Lilly, I clicked on Mariah's image by mistake, and I realized "holy shit!" Finn: dark hair, dark eyes; Bellamy: dark hair, dark eyes, tan skin; Jenna: dark hair; dark eyes; tan skin. Erego, Clarke has a type. That is all. lol**

* * *

><p>Clarke Griffin was pissed. No, that was an understatement. She was <em>fucking livid<em>. And, of course, she was _fucking livid_ at _Bellamy Blake_. She should've known that her mother's sudden change of heart about him would lead to him turning into a scaredy cat. He _texted_ her to cancel their post-Christmas plans, with nothing more than a "sorry, can't make it." That was it. No explanation. No attempt to reschedule. Nothing. Now, she had a wrapped box that held a beautiful watch and a bottle of expensive and really good quality bourbon sitting on her coffee table like one of the forgotten toys left behind in the _Toy Story_ movie where the character of Jessie was introduced, and her teenaged owner lefter on the side of the road in a box next to a donation van. Well, shit, now she was _depressed_ and _livid_, because that part of the movie always made her cry, and Bellamy was a douche bag.

_One week_ had passed since the Christmas dessert, "call me Abby" incident. She was fine with the text when she got it, actually. Sure, she was a little bummed, because she'd already started getting cute for Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter pictures, and the Vine she was going to insist that they make with the Santa hat and reindeer antler headband she'd bought. She planned on singing "_you're a monster, Mr. Grinch / your heart's an empty hole! / your brain is full of spiders / you've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch / I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!_" from the song _You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch!_ while wearing the reindeer antler headband and making him wear the Santa hat. She was actually quite excited about making that vine, so it was a disappointment when he cancelled.

She let the disappointment go, however, because she figured he needed a cooling off period, because this wasn't a real relationship, and he did very relationshipy things by showing up to save her, referring to himself openly as her boyfriend, and getting the whole "call me Abby" thing from her mother. Then, there was also the kiss-the beautiful, hot, wonderful, inappropriate kiss-that was something that they shouldn't have done, because this wasn't a relationship. All of it made sense for why he needed to bail the next night, so she accepted it.

What she didn't accept was the fact that he'd spent the remaining six days _ignoring_ her. The day after his text to cancel, she sent him a picture of the $150 dollar bottle of bourbon she bought him. The green ribbon was tied in a bow around its neck, making the reddish-orange color of the booze pop. In the text, she threatened that she was going to open it and start drinking it without him. She fully expected him to show up within an hour, pounding on her door, sporting a pizza for himself and vegan mac and cheese for her (she had told him a good bottle of bourbon, vegan mac and cheese, and a slasher flick was her idea of the best night in the whole world, and he had wholeheartedly agreed to take part in such a night with her). However, he never showed. He never even _responded_.

The day after that, she'd taken a picture of a much less expensive and good glass of bourbon that she'd purchased on a whim for herself with a single ice cube floating in it, claiming that it was from the bottle that she'd bought him. She got no response. _Again_.

Every text. Every call. Every DM on Twitter. Every goddamn carrier pigeon (okay, that was an exaggeration, purely because she would never force an animal to do her bidding in such a way, and she lived as cruelty-free a lifestyle as she could possibly get). EVERYTHING SHE DID TO GET IN TOUCH WITH HIM WENT UNRESPONDED. Well, fuck him. Fuck Bellamy Blake and his god complex. She wasn't sure what to do, because Kate had tweeted a picture of #Kells&Bellarke on Christmas of them eating dessert, with the necklace hanging off of her neck, and his arm around her waist like goddamn badges of their "relationship." It wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly disappear from her life. It wouldn't only look bad for him in the eyes of the media, his fans, and the studio heads at _Lions Gate_, who could suddenly decide that they were going to go with the version of _The Grounders: Wisdom Part II_ where Gage is killed in the first fifteen minutes of the movie.

Seven days of silence, and it was now New Year's Eve, another big holiday in the eyes of the world for celebrity couples. Before agreeing to fake-date Bellamy for awhile, Clarke had planned on ringing in the new year with Kate, Wells, Harper, Miller, and Monty at _Spacewalk_. Jasper was going to be at home, with Maya and Baby Nina, and Monty was going to be working, and his new girlfriend, Hayley Fox was likely to be in tow. She figured that there would be a Finn and Raven run-in, as well, but she would be surrounded by plenty of her friends to keep the fireworks (pun-intended) to a minimum between the three of them. Except, now she was "dating" Bellamy, so the expectation would be that he'd be involved in any New Year's Eve plans she'd take part in. She knew that people would probably wonder why she and Bellamy weren't together, so she sent him yet another text.

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_12:19 PM _

_What's the deal about tonight? Are we hanging out?_

She shoved her phone into her purse, following Kate inside of the salon where the two of them got their tri-weekly leg, underarm, eyebrow and bikini waxes. Ever since her self-harming incident, she'd stopped shaving with a razor, sticking strictly to waxing to reduce any exposure to razor blades. She went first for the waxes, wishing like hell that she'd brought a flask to chug before Katia got started. Katia was the best, but she was also the _worst_. When she was finished, she limped (her bikini area was on fucking fire) her way to the chairs in the waiting area to wait for Kate to get out.

Her phone started ringing in her purse, and she grabbed at it, hoping like hell that it would be Bellamy, even if she was majorly pissed at him, so that they could figure out what to do for the evening. It wasn't. She momentarily pursed her lips before grinning in excitement at the name flashing across her screen. She slid her thumb along the "slide to unlock" bar and accepted the call from one of her best friends and a sister from her sorority from undergrad, Thalia. "Hey, Tally." She said happily into the phone.

"Clarkey! I've got huge and exciting news! Are you sitting down? You better sit down!" Thalia squealed into the phone. Clarke widened her eyes, unsure where Thalia was going with this call.

"I'm sitting. What's going on? Are you and Greg pregnant?" She asked. When she had met Thalia during rush week freshman year, Thalia had been dating her high school sweetheart, Greg, who had also attended Stanford with them. Greg and Thalia were truly adorable together, both dark haired, tall, and beautiful. The two of them were like a magazine spread of gorgeousness. After graduation, Thalia and Greg had gotten married (with Clarke and two of their other best friends and sisters as three of Thalia's six bridesmaids), and then the two of them had moved up to Portland, Oregon, where Thalia taught Italian at a fancy prep school, and Greg had gotten his master's in counseling psychology and now worked as an addictions therapist. Thalia and Greg had been married for six years, and during one of their recent Skype sessions, she'd admitted that she and Greg were _discussing_ the possibility of having kids.

"Pregnant? Fuck no! We've decided to wait to start trying when we're both thirty and have bought a house. We're still renting a cute condo. We're getting a dog instead." Clarke laughed, shaking her heat.

"Give me a heart attack, why don't you!? I was all excited about being Aunt Clarkey."

"You're already Aunt Clarkey to Jasper and Maya's kid." Thalia reminded her.

"Yeah, but it's not the same!"

"Then, tell Wells and Kate to get the baby-making started!" Her friend teased.

"How about _you_ tell that to Wells and Kate?" While Kate and Thalia had never met in person, they'd communicated through social media, phone calls, and Skype sessions, because Thalia and Greg were close with both Clarke and Wells. The two of them were pretty friendly, which made Clarke's life easier. All of her best friends were friends, which was such a relief. "So, what the hell is so big that you needed to tell me?" She paused. "I also demand to be Aunt Clarkey to the dog, too."

"Done, Clarke," Thalia laughed. "Guess who is in town for New Year's!"

"No shit! You're in L.A.?"

"Not just me, babes, but Lilly and Glass are here, too. The three of us convinced the boys to take on us a trip for the holiday, and what better place than the city that never sleeps?"

"Um, that's New York City." Clarke laughed. "Los Angeles is the City of Angels."

"Oh, whatever. Does it really matter? All that matters is that we need to have a Tri-Delta reunion!"

"Duh." She smiled, running a hand through her hair.

Clarke hadn't been in the same room with Thalia, Lilly, and Glass in three years. Thalia and Greg had moved to Portland almost right after the wedding and the graduation, and while Clarke had been in med school, she, Lilly, and Glass would travel to Portland every few months to visit Thalia, or Thalia would make a trip down to visit them. Lilly and Glass had worked at a theatre near campus for a couple years after graduation. Lilly's boyfriend, Kai, got a job in Austin, so she moved there with him. Glass went, too, because the two of them had grown up living next to door to each other, roomed together their freshman year, and then lived in the quad in the Delta-Delta-Delta house with Clarke and Thalia for sophomore, junior, and senior year at Stanford. Glass and Lilly opened their own music and dance school, with the help of Kai, Lilly's business school boyfriend, and his buddy from work, Zeke, who Glass had fallen for.

All four of them had become hugely successful and happy-Clarke with her art, Thalia with teaching, and Lilly and Glass with their music and dance school. While the four of them had gone their separate ways, they'd still kept in touch via texts, emails, social media, and bi-weekly Skype sessions of the four of them. She loved her sorority sisters. They were the closest things she had to siblings, aside from Kate and Wells. All three of the girls had been there for her when she lost her dad in her third year of med school. While they weren't physically able to make it to see her again the following fall after the breakup with Finn and the self-harming incident, the three of them knew about it and were immensely supportive by sending her care packages and staying on the phone with her late into the night, letting her cry out her feelings to them while Wells held her in his arms. Thalia, Kate, Wells, Lilly, and Glass were some of the most important people in her lives, and she knew that she'd be lost without them.

"Kate, Wells, and I were going to hit _Spacewalk_ tonight with some other friends to ring in the New Year. You guys game for that?"

"Is Finn going to be there?" Thalia asked, and Clarke could hear the hatred in her friend's voice. She could picture the brunette woman scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Probably, but there will be enough people there that he won't cause a big stink. Or, well, I hope he won't. Raven likely won't leave his side."

"Uggh. The cheating asshole. But, we're down. I'm looking forward to seeing Wells again and meeting Kate officially."

"I'll text you my address, and you six can meet me, Kate, and Wells at my apartment tonight at eight. We'll do a little pre-gaming before we head to the club."

"Sounds perfect. I'm so excited for the four of us to get together again!"

"Same here, Tally."

"And, Clarke…" She paused for dramatic effect, making Clarke roll her eyes. Thalia should've majored in the performance arts, not Italian with a minor in Education. "We're looking forward to meeting your famous boyfriend." With that, Thalia ended the call, making Clarke groan as she dropped the phone in her lap.

"What's wrong?" Kate's voice made her jump, and she glanced up at her friend who walked her way out of a waxing as if it was like getting a massage. She didn't look the tiniest bit in pain, unlike Clarke. Bitch.

"Thalia, Glass, and Lilly are in town for New Years, so I invited them to join us at _Spacewalk _tonight."

"Yay! Where's the bad?"

"The bad is that Thalia hung up with the parting message that the girls are looking forward to meeting my famous boyfriend."

"Oh." Kate frowned, sitting down in the chair in the waiting area beside her. "Have you heard from Bellamy yet?"

"Nope. He hasn't tweeted, texted, or called me since Christmas dinner." Clarke frowned, reaching up to absent-mindedly run her fingers over the opal necklace she'd been wearing since he'd given it to her. "Whatever. This isn't real, so it doesn't matter."

"If you say so." Clarke shot Kate a dirty look, because the redhead had a tendency to make comments about how elements of hers and Bellamy's fake relationship aren't exactly _fake_.

"Maybe I can give them another famous Blake." She grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts for the number that she'd gotten from Octavia after she had DMed hers to the model, The two of them made their way out of the salon towards Kate's car. She pressed her phone to her ear, listening to the rings.

"Clarke, um, hey." She rolled her eyes at how nervous and weird Octavia sounded. She was probably near Bellamy.

"I'm not looking for your brother, don't worry. I wouldn't put you in the middle like that. If he wants to act like a scared, little boy, that's his prerogative."

"A scared, little boy?" Octavia said in surprise. Clarke could hear her trying to keep the laughter out of her voice, for Bellamy's sake.

"I mean, it was _his_ choice to come thundering into my mom's boyfriend's house on Christmas, acting like some goddamn knight rushing into battle, acting like he's so awesome for_ saving_ the damsel in distress, and then he realized how _boyfriendy_ it is to show up at a family event like that. It was _his_ choice to label himself as my boyfriend to everyone there, and _his_ choice to willingly meet my mom, her boyfriend, and Wells' dad, who's basically like my uncle. That was all him, and now he's freaking out about it."

"He called himself your boyfriend?" She heard the muffled sound of the phone being pressed to Octavia's chest and the murmured sounds of her chastising someone, likely Bellamy. "He didn't tell me that part." Clarke blanched. She hoped like hell that he didn't tell Octavia about the kiss.

"Oh, and what did he tell you?"

"That your mom told him to call her Abby, and you said that that was basically a 'welcome to the family' thing." She let out a breath of relief.

"Yeah, _that_. I dunno why she said it. It was weird. One minute, she's trying to set me up with a creepy bodyguard, and the next she's like, 'oh, Bellamy, call me Abby.' It made no sense to me."

"Well, perhaps it has something to do with the necklace. He didn't tell me what he got you for Christmas, but I saw the pictures that Kate posted of it on Twitter and Instagram, and it's gorgeous. I don't think the asshole's never even bought something that nice for me. Ouch! Fuck you, dude." Octavia said the last part to whoever she was with, thus further confirming to Clarke that it was Bellamy.

"You think that she told him to call her Abby because of necklace? I don't think so. Finn gave me a bracelet when we were together for a year. He and I were together for nearly two and a half years in total, and he didn't get the 'call me Abby' thing until a year and a half into our relationship. The most serious ex before him gave me a really pretty pair of earrings when we were together for six months, but my mom never officially met J, so she never did the 'call me Abby' thing."

"Oh, well, I dunno then. There was obviously something that inspired your mom to go that route, and now my big brother has his panties all in a twist about it. Dude, touch me again, and I will _cut_ you." Octavia threatened again. "So, you said you weren't calling to look for my stupid brother. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was wondering what your plans are for this evening."

"Well, I was invited to a party being hosted by another Victoria's Secret model, but Taylor Swift is going to be there, and things have always been a little weird ever since she and my brother hooked up for a bit. For some reason, she can't seem to let bygones be bygones with him, but she can with other dumbasses she's fucked around with."

"Oh, I love her. Please don't tell me she's a bitch or something." Clarke pouted.

"Oh, she's lovely, really, but it's just..._awkward_." Octavia told her. "Anyways, I was also invited to Miley Cyrus's big throwdown, but Lincoln worked with Liam Hemsworth on a film, and he's totally Team Liam in their whole breakup, even though it's been ages since those two split. Then, there was a party that's being held by Evangelese Gordon, the model, that I was invited to, but I'm definitely not going to that, because Evangelese is best friends with Lexa, and the only reason she invited me was to see if I would bring Lincoln, and then there would be this whole big thing with the media claiming that I punched Lexa or that Lexa and Lincoln are getting back together, and I was left crying in the corner at the party or blah, blah, blah. Navigating model politics is not on my list of fun things, so I'm avoiding that party like you wouldn't believe." Clarke's eyes widened. Octavia rambled about Evangelese (who named their kid Evangelese? This had to be a fake name for Hollywood. Right?) and Lexa, making Clarke's head spin.

"Oh, wow. That sounds...huh. You celebs, forced to rub elbows with the people you can't stand at parties just so the media doesn't spread lies about you, only to have other lies spread about you. It sounds like a real headache." She cocked her head to the side. "You're just like everybody else." She joked.

"Exactly."

"Well, anyways, if you're looking to spend a little time with some people who aren't full of celebrity politics and are looking to basically get wasted and then fuck their significant others, you're more than welcome to join in with my friends and I tonight at _Spacewalk_. Lincoln, is obviously welcome." She said, smiling at Kate when she parked outside of Kate's apartment complex.

"Fucking significant others, huh? Is there something that you and Bell need to tell me? Ouch! _Fuck_, dude!" Clarke bit her lip, because that wasn't what she meant.

"Oh, god, stop. I'm just fake dating your brother, so I've got no one to fuck." She sighed, earning a snort from both Octavia and Kate. She shot Kate a glare.

"Honey, I think you've got someone who's willing to fuck you if you ask." Octavia grunted. "Dude. That _hurt_." Clarke sighed.

"Would you walk away from Bellamy? You're risking the bruising of your body. It is your moneymaker, so you might want to get out of hitting reach." Clarke sighed.

"That asshole wouldn't dare to bruise me." Octavia said, and Clarke could hear the eye roll through the phone. "Stop trying to change the subject. You were saying something about drinking and fucking significant others, while pretending that you and my brother don't want to fuck each other's brains out. _Don't touch me_."

"We're meeting Miller and Harper at _Spacewalk_, and I'm pretty sure that Monty's going to have his new girlfriend, Hayley, there, too-the one from Thanksgiving." Clarke chose to ignore Octavia's claims that she and Bellamy wanted to have sex. She wasn't going to deny it, because there was a huge part of her that knew that she found him attractive, but she knew that it wasn't the smart, rational thing to do. "Jasper's at home with Maya and their daughter tonight. And, I can almost guarantee that Finn and Raven will make an appearance, but there's enough people around that there won't be any fireworks there. A bunch of my friends from undergrad are in town, so we're meeting at my apartment to pregame at eight."

"Sounds like a party that I'd actually enjoy." Octavia hesitated. "Lincoln's welcome…" Clarke sighed, hearing the unspoken question in the younger Blake's voice.

"If Bellamy chooses to show up, I would not turn him away, but the ball is in his court. I've texted and called him everyday since Christmas, and he's ignored me. I'm done making an effort."

"Right." Octavia paused. "Lincoln and I will meet you at your apartment tonight. See you then?"

"Perfect! Bye, Octavia."

Clarke stared at her phone before deciding to text Bellamy for the last time. She sent him three long-winded texts about their current situation and personally inviting him instead of letting the invite come from Octavia.

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_3:43 PM_

_Okay, here's the deal, Bellamy. I'm sick and tired of trying to call you, text you, talk to you. You need to decide what the hell is going on in your head and let me know. If you want to end this fake relationship, then fine. You just need to be honest and tell me the truth. _

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_3:44 PM_

_I know that you were standing right next to Octavia as we were talking. I invited her and Lincoln out with my friends at Spacewalk tonight. I told her that I wouldn't turn you away if you were to show u, but I figured that I needed to talk to you in person. I'm pissed and hurt that you've been ignoring me, but I wouldn't hate it if you were to come tonight._

_To: Bellamy Blake_

_3:45 PM_

_So here is the deal. I'm meeting most people at my apartment tonight at 8. We'll stick around my place until probably about 9 and then head to the club. You can come to my apartment or meet us at the club if you would like to come. Talk to you later ?_

Clarke shoved her phone into her purse. Time to make herself look pretty for that night. She had no idea if he was going to come over or not, but she did all that she could to fix everything going on. The ball was in his court, as the saying goes.


End file.
